The Undoing of Doctor Spencer Reid
by QueenZenobia
Summary: Reid embarks on a dangerous path when he falls in love with a mysterious woman whom he suspects of murder.
1. Chapter 1

_**This story is all about Spencer, but the whole team is in it. I greatly enjoyed writing it. I hope you like it.**_

_**Disclaimer: The characters you recognize belong to CBS. The others are mine.**_

_**So here we go...**_

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Chapter 1

It was a random murder, not a BAU case. Dr. Spencer Reid just happened upon the crime scene at Georgetown University while on an FBI recruitment lecture with S.S.A. David Rossi. It had gone exceptionally well, in Reid's opinion, because this time _one_ student had laughed at his existentialists-and-a-lightbulb joke. And, as if that weren't enough, Reid also met a woman.

Yes, a woman came up to him to say how much she enjoyed the lecture. And come to think of it, she was rather pretty, in an Emily Prentiss kind of way. She was tall –Reid had to look up at her– with long, wavy, brown hair. He really liked the way her dress wrapped around her body, showing off her figure, as she walked –correction, as she _glided_. She reminded him of a sculpture he had admired at a gallery opening last month, "Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra." He had been tempted to run his index finger along the long line of the statue's naked back and neck.

The woman's name was Doctor Alison Montgomery. Professor of what? Reid couldn't recall… No. It is inaccurate to say that _he couldn't recall_ because the truth is he never heard it. He was sure the professor mentioned it. Her full lips, glossed with a warm, rosy shade, opened and spoke. But his ears never heard the words. Therefore, his brain never had the opportunity to process it… because he was so captivated by her eyes.

They were catlike eyes, bright jewels nearly hidden behind long, dark lashes. What color were they? Blue? Green? Grey? He couldn't say. His vast word bank was insufficient to properly name the exact hue of those unbelievable eyes. Huh. His words weren't enough. Well, that was a first! All he knew was that once he looked into them, he couldn't turn away. And when their conversation was over, Reid was left thinking how nice it would be to look into those eyes again.

Why? Well, for one, because he didn't know her academic specialty. She didn't look older than 22, when most students were completing their first Bachelor's Degree. So, if she already had a Ph.D. and was a professor, well, then that was worth exploring, right? How long had she been at Georgetown? Where was she from? There was so much to learn about her. Why had he let her leave without asking a few questions?

But in the back of his mind, Reid understood that the main reason for wanting to see her again was because he liked how he felt when he looked into those endless eyes. It was like falling down the rabbit hole. Down, down, down. And he knew that from this day forward, instead of seeing the haunting eyes that followed him in his nightmares, he would dream of her eyes. The thought comforted him and warmed his heart.

Such were the thoughts of the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid as he wandered through campus with a goofy smile on his face. It was early October, and Reid always loved the fall semester most. It was a new beginning, filled with promise. Even now he could feel the same vibe in the alumni around him. A couple reading on a bench. Some jocks tossing a football. A co-ed study group under the cherry blossom, which, come springtime, would explode with color. They were all happy youths, fully unaware of the ugliness that lurked in the world just outside campus. Innocent kids, thought Reid. And a sudden wave of sadness overcame him. He was drawn out of his reverie by the siren of an ambulance followed by an ME's vehicle.

By instinct, Reid ran after them, hugging his messenger bag against his chest. As he approached the growing crowd of students, he noticed the blue uniforms setting up a perimeter with yellow crime scene tape. The crowd was excited with gossip and speculation.

"Professor Farley's dead! Murdered!"

"Really?"

"What? Boner Bill's dead?"

"Yeah, poor guy!"

"What do you mean? You hated the creep."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't want him to die, like murdered."

"You told him to drop dead!"

"Because he was groping me!"

Reid approached the nearest uniform and asked, "What happened?"

"Murdered professor on the second floor," he replied matter-of-factly. _Rookie, _thought Reid. Despite his sedate exterior, there was excitement in his eyes. Reid knew that the excitement would turn to horror when he finally took a look at the actual body.

"Let me see if they need any help." Reid showed his FBI credentials and was let through.

"Who's in charge?" he asked on the second floor.

"That would be me," replied a female detective. She was a slight little thing, but her eyes were fierce and her movements deliberate. "Detective Martinez. Who are you?"

"FBI Supervisory Special Agent, Dr. Spencer Reid," he said showing his badge.

"Quite a mouthful," she replied with contempt. "Was the BAU called in? Do you know something I don't?"

"No, I was on campus for a lecture, but I heard what happened. Mind if I take a look?"

She didn't like it one bit. Reid could practically see her neurons exploding thinking of a way to say no. But she sighed and said, "Just stay out of my way." And she returned to her duties in a huff.

Reid only wanted to take a look, but he was given a pair of gloves as he entered. It was the professor's office and there at the end was the corpse, face down on the floor, with the ME working above him. Reid didn't take another step. The smell of musty books was not what kept him glued to his spot.

It was another smell. A perfume. A delicate scent that reminded him of laundry day when he was a kid, when his mother washed the sheets and hung them up in the backyard. The wind would carry the smell of lavender through the whole house. It was a smell that he cherished because it transported him to domestic felicity, before his father abandoned them. And it wasn't the first time today that he had experienced this smell, or the memory. Because just one hour before he had smelled it as he searched the unfathomable depths of the eyes of Doctor Alison Montgomery.

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_**From the author: Thank you for reading.**_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"This your first stiff?" mocked Detective Martinez noticing Reid's discomfiture. _Light-weight_, she thought. _How could he be in the BAU? Probably works from the office, zero field experience._

Dr. Spencer Reid was stunned by the fact that he had solved a murder in thirty seconds flat. That was a personal record. But every fiber of his being was telling him to walk away and never look back. Just let the police figure it out, if they could. Why interfere? He wasn't even supposed to be there. He was still on the clock so he should have left with Rossi right after the lecture. What was he still doing there?

He quickly recovered under the inquisitive eye of the detective and responded, "No, I've seen hundreds of … _stiffs_." He thought using the detective jargon would make him look tough. But the word sounded alien coming from his mouth and a few people looked up from their work to stare at the strange, uninvited FBI agent in their crime scene. Ignoring them, Reid cleared his throat and asked the ME, "Have you determined time of death?"

"Approximately, 2:00 A.M.," he responded.

"What about cause of death?"

"I'm guessing blunt force trauma to the base of the skull, right here."

"Hit from behind," mused Reid looking into the wound. Deep, but consistent with a female perpetrator. A disorganized killer. The blow was opportunistic, not premeditated. He looked around for a bloody object that could have been used as the murder weapon. Nothing. "It's so clean!"

"We can't find any fingerprints," mentioned a CSI. Also consistent with a female offender. But an organized one. Someone who carefully cleaned up afterwards. So were there two offenders? A team? Or something else?

She was meticulous. Efficient. And quick. She killed him at 2:00 A.M., spent the whole night cleaning, then showered, got dressed, and attended the FBI recruitment lecture at 9:00 A.M. _Antisocial personality disorder? _It was too soon to tell.

"What class did the victim teach?" asked Reid.

"Anthropology Department," replied Detective Martinez before checking her notes for the precise course. "I don't know, some kind of freshmen crap."

"Freshmen," repeated Reid. "Eighteen-year-olds."

"Is that significant?" she raised an eyebrow.

"No, I just saw a lot of kids in the crowd. I would definitely canvas the crowd and keep an eye out for anyone in an upset state." And that was the first time he had ever lied to a homicide detective during the course of an investigation, a crime punishable by law. The killer would _not_ be upset. Quite the contrary. She would be calm and collected. The presence of the crowd would make her feel safe. The fact that she belonged in the environment would make her feel safe. But above all, her meticulous cleaning of the crime scene would make her feel safe.

"You think the killer's in the crowd?"

"Maybe." Lie number two. Of course she was in the crowd. As he wasted his time here, trying to shake off that detective, the killer was watching the investigation, trying to ascertain whether she was going to get away with it or not. He had to get out there! To find her!

"Isn't that kind of bold?"

"Maybe, I don't know. But I would still check."

"Rogers," ordered Detective Martinez. "Can you take care of that? Take Miles with you."

"Anything else?" she asked Reid.

"Not that I can think of." Lie number 3. Reid was relieved that he wouldn't have to testify against himself in court because he would be a helluva witness. He had to get out of there. Fast! So he was beyond happy when his phone rang.

"Hi, Em," he answered. "Sorry, I forgot our lunch date. It's just that I got caught up here. There was a murder on campus… Yeah, a professor… Well, you know me, can't stay away from gore… No, no… I just thought I'd take a look, see if I could help out… No, I'm coming now. Tell Hotch I'll be there in twenty minutes. Thanks. Bye." He hung up and faced the detective. "Gotta go. But here's my number in case you need an extra set of eyes. Thanks for letting me in your crime scene." He gave her his card and walked away.

"Hey! What aren't you saying?" asked the detective. "Do you know something?"

Reid cursed himself for being there. And he double-cursed himself for refusing to say what he knew. Now _he_ was being profiled by the lead detective on the case, a woman who would not back off until her curiosity was satisfied. Reid knew he had to throw her a bone.

"Something's bothering me about this murder, but I can't put my finger on it." He gauged the detective's reaction. Interest. Well, interest was much better than suspicion. "Look, I have to report to the BAU; we have a case. Could you call me later, maybe tonight? We could figure this out together." He hoped she would take the bait. That would buy him some time to figure out why he was hiding what he knew, and how to get out of this mess.

"No," replied the detective. Reid held his breath. What was she going to do? Arrest him? Hotch would spring him out easy enough. Would she try to have the truth beaten out of him? Well, it wouldn't be the first time, would it? But he was relieved when she handed him her card and said, "_You_ call _me_. I'll be expecting your call tonight."

_Great._

"Okay," he finally said. "I'll see myself out." He could feel the fire of her stare on the back of his neck as he awkwardly left the room.

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_**So a word about the team: Emily is still on the team, because I totally pretend that she never left. Thank you for reading.**_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Reid scanned the crowd from the building's entrance. He knew she was there. He just had to find her. But there were close to 400 people by now. As it dawned on him that he was too visible, that she would bolt if she saw him, he noticed her from the corner of his eye. She ducked away and disappeared behind the crowd. He knew it was her because of the dress, a flowery auburn-toned fabric that flowed as she walked. He sprinted down the marble steps after her, making his way through the crowd. About ten yards behind her he called out, "Dr. Montgomery!"

She turned around and responded, "Yes?"

He approached her, breathless from his sprint, but speechless from the fact that she was a murderer. _And_ from the fact that she was beautiful.

She noticed his hesitation and said, "Dr. Reid, how nice to see you again." Reid still couldn't find his voice, so she added, "Are you investigating the murder?"

"Oh, no," he finally coughed out. "No, I just happened on it."

"And you left?"

"Yes, as you know, the BAU only investigates serial murders, and that doesn't seem to be the case here." He recovered his wits and started working her. He added, "Besides, I don't think they need me."

"Why ever not?"

"Well, the lead detective is the best I've seen, and, believe me, I've worked with detectives all over the country." That was not his assessment on Detective Martinez. Yes, she was smart and eager. No doubt she would be good in a few years. But right now she was young and inexperienced. Reid was surprised she was in charge of this homicide, which would generate lots of media attention. But Dr. Montgomery didn't know that, so he added, "I'm guessing she'll crack this case in a few days." He carefully watched her reaction as he spoke. Her eyes widened slightly and she held her breath. _Guilty_. But she recovered immediately. _Won't break easily_.

"Glad to hear it," she responded casually.

"Did you know the victim?" A bizarre reaction followed. She smiled, and the smile turned into a laugh. _Psychopath?_ Again, too soon to tell.

"I'm sorry!" she said regaining control. "I know you must think I'm a horrible person for laughing. It's just so ironic!"

"What's ironic?"

She laughed again, "That _William Farley_ is the victim!" So the professor wasn't an outstanding citizen. And it didn't escape Reid's attention that she used the dead man's name. A female aggressor confronted by an authority figure will not use the victim's name. That's usually the profile.

"So, he was more of a perpetrator than a victim," concluded Reid.

"What makes you think so?" She responded with a question. She had the presence of mind to formulate questions. Huh.

"Well, I heard some female students call him… I'm sorry I don't want to be crude."

"Let me guess," she interrupted. "There are so many to choose from. Woody Woodpecker?"

Reid couldn't help but laugh. "Boner Bill."

"Oh, I haven't heard that one in a while. As you can infer, William is somewhat loose with the female students."

"You mean _was_," corrected Reid. He was actively not allowing her eyes to distract him from his line of questioning. Because they were even more captivating –as if it were possible– when she was smiling. Were they cerulean? Lapis lazuli? No, that still didn't describe the specks of green in them. How could he not have a word for her eyes?

"Pardon?" she asked.

"Well, you said William _is _loose with the girls. It's _was_."

"Oh, that's right," she said. What was that expression? It wasn't guilt. Was she the killer or not? Reid was confused. And then he made a mistake. He drove in for the kill too early, rendering his effort ineffective. Interrogation was not his strength.

"Why were you in his office?"

"I wasn't… Wait. What is this? Are you questioning me?" Reid noticed that she took a step closer to him, not away.

"No, I'm not working the case. I just want to know."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I'm attracted to you." _Well, where did that come from?_ Even Reid was surprised by that.

"Oh!" She was flattered and her cheeks turned red. Reid was baffled that such a beautiful woman could be flattered by something _he_ said. Surely better and more handsome men complimented her every day. Why would she blush for him?

"Well, in that case, I'll tell you anything you want to know!" she answered flirtatiously. "No, seriously, it's no big deal if I drop by his office. After all, he is my colleague. Or, as you like to point out, _was _my colleague, at least until last night. But I haven't been there lately."

She said _last night_. That he had been her colleague until _last night_. But time of death had not yet been released to the public. Reid saw in her eyes the moment understanding dawned on her. That she had said too much. She nervously checked her watch to buy herself a moment. "Look, I'd love to chat some more, but I have a class in fifteen minutes, so I should be going. Would you like to listen to my lecture?"

Reid was surprised by the invitation. She should be trying to get away from him as fast as possible, not inviting him to spend more time with her. How should he profile that? "I'd love to," he responded too eagerly. "But I can't. My boss called me back to Quantico. We have a new case."

"That's too bad," she responded and she seemed genuinely disappointed. "Maybe after your case."

"Yes, I'd like that," he smiled.

"Okay, then."

"Okay."

Reid watched her walk away. Six-inch heels. That's why she was so tall. And the way she walked in them. Like a runway model. He observed her figure as the dress caught its every curve. He couldn't just let her walk away again. "Dr. Montgomery!" he called.

"Yes, Dr. Reid?" was her waiting response.

"Can I get your number?"

"Of course, you can. You work for the FBI."

And he smiled as she confidently walked away.

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_**I love it that Reid just blurts out that he likes Alison! Thank you for reading.**_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

On the trip back to Quantico Reid's thoughts were in a jumble. He played and replayed the events and conversations of the morning, knowing that he needed to process all of that information quickly, before arriving, because as soon as he got back he needed to be in agent mode. The new case would require his undivided attention. So he dived into his thoughts so deeply that all sights and sounds around him ceased to exist.

He was in a trans-like state, unaware of the looks directed towards him by other Metro passengers. It was a puzzle, and he was in the process of arranging all the pieces before attempting to put them together. But he was frustrated by stray thoughts that interrupted his thought process because they engaged other senses. Ideas and memories that were wholly unrelated to the case.

For example, what did it matter that her skin looked like porcelain, or that her voice was so pleasant? How was it beneficial to remember her perfume or her smile? Why did his pulse accelerate when he remembered her cheeks reddening at his confession of liking her? And while he was thinking of that, why had he said it? And why couldn't he find a word to match the exact color of her eyes? So when Reid exited the Metro, he was no closer to figuring out the puzzle than when he got in.

His phone rang and he groaned. "Yes, Morgan?" he responded annoyed.

"Kid, where are you?" asked his colleague in a worried tone. Reid couldn't help smiling when he imagined Morgan talking somewhere private so that no one from the team could hear. That was Morgan's way –he worried. True, he was relentless when he made fun of them, but he would give up his life for any one of them. "It's wheels up and you're not here."

"Actually, I'm closer to the airstrip. I'll meet you at the jet."

"Okay, I'll tell Hotch. I guess I'll grab your go-bag from your desk. Are you okay?"

"Yes, Mom, I'm fine. Where are we going?"

"Seattle, Washington."

"Great!" sighed Reid. "Could it have been a bit further away?"

"Well, sure, maybe Alaska or Hawaii."

"That was a rhetorical question, Morgan."

"Oh, right. Reid, you sure you're okay, man?"

"I'm fine. I'll see you there. And, Morgan, thanks."

"No problem, Pretty Boy." He hung up before Reid could spit out one of the many come-backs Emily had taught him. _I'll get him later_, he thought.

His time was up and he hadn't decided what to do about one Dr. Alison Montgomery. The thought of her brought a smile to his face. What was it about her that had him in such a state? But the smile faded when he thought of Detective Martinez.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It promised to be a grueling case. A spree killer was on the loose, apparently resting from a surge of activity. First a waterfront restaurant: 3 patrons dead, 5 wounded. Then a nearby college: 5 students dead, 5 wounded. And finally at Seattle Grace Hospital: one doctor dead, another one wounded. The killer hadn't committed suicide and was in hiding, which no doubt meant that at any minute the killings would resume. So Hotch ordered the team to get as much rest as possible on the flight because they would have to hit the ground running, and they would not rest until the killer was caught or dead.

Reid waited for the team to relax after the briefing. Morgan was hearing his music. J.J. was on the phone with Will. Rossi was asleep. And Hotch and Emily were whispering to each other, their foreheads nearly touching. Spencer took out the detective's card and dialed the number. He hoped she wouldn't pick up the phone. Maybe he could get away with leaving a message. No such luck, because she picked it up on the second ring, "Detective Martinez."

"Hi, it's Spencer."

"What? No FBI SSA BS this time?"

"Look! I'm really tired. I'm with the team on our way to Seattle. But I didn't want you to think I was irresponsible, so I called. Any progress?"

"Yeah, actually, I guess I have to thank you." Her tone softened. _What was that? Gratitude?_ "Your lead panned out. We picked up a student from the crowd. One Darcy Evans. She looked very distraught. And when a detective called her she bolted."

"She ran away?" He was shocked because he had delivered to Detective Martinez the exact opposite of his profile. That lead was _not _supposed to pan out.

"Yeah, so we picked her up and we were sweating her at the station until she lawyered up."

"So you think she's the Unsub?"

"The un-what now?"

"Oh, sorry, the Unsub, the Unidentified Subject."

"Unsub, huh. I like it. It's catchy."

"Yeah, we like it, too. So what do you think?"

"Yeah, it might be her, I don't know. I sure could use what your instincts were telling you this afternoon."

"It was the victim. I know someone in the Anthropology Department, and she said Professor Farley was inappropriate with the female alumni." Reid winced as he waited for the reply. _Please don't ask who my source is!_

"Yeah, we dug up some complaints. Seven to be exact. University had him on probation, pending investigation for misconduct."

Relieved, he responded, "So there's the motive. Was Darcy one of the complainants?"

"No, no dice. What are you thinking?"

"I don't know. Did you interview each complainant? They might be able to give you the names of other women who were afraid to file a report, or of angry boyfriends or family members."

"Way ahead of you. We sent a uniform to each one and acquired a list of potentials." Reid wished he could get his hands on that list, to skim through it looking for the only name that interested him.

"Okay, that's good work. Would you believe me if I told you I wish I was on your case rather than over here?"

"Of course, I believe you," she laughed. "Who wouldn't jump up at the chance to work with me?"

He actually smiled at that. He was glad he called her because she provided one more piece to the puzzle. A second assailant. His two-woman team theory was the way to go.

"Okay, look I'm going to be unavailable until we solve this case. So I'll call you when I'm back in D.C."

"Okay, thanks, Spencer. Stay safe."

"You too."

Well, well, well. That worked out nicely. Here was the spitfire detective thanking him and wishing him a safe return. Spencer felt like patting himself on the back. He was thinking about the case –the one in D.C. – wondering what else he had gotten wrong. Maybe Dr. Montgomery wasn't the murderer. She was involved, of that much he was certain. But to what extent? Maybe she was helping out this Darcy student. And with the comfort of that thought he drifted into a state of near sleep.

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_**Grey's Anatomy fans will catch that reference to Seattle Grace. Thank you for reading.**_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The detectives knocked on the door of Office 234 at the Department of Anthropological Studies.

"Good morning. Dr. Montgomery?"

"Yes, can I help you?"

"I'm Detective Martinez. This is my partner, Detective Rogers. Could we ask you a few questions about the murder of Professor Farley?"

"Of course. Please, come in." Dr. Montgomery signaled for them to sit in front of the great mahogany desk as she picked up the land line. "I'm sorry. Would you allow me to make a phone call? I don't mean to be rude, but it can't wait."

"Sure, no problem," said Detective Martinez, quite taken by the young professor's graceful manners and slight southern accent. She peaked at Rogers and noticed that he was also impressed, although not exactly by her manners.

"Hi, Cher, it's me. Listen, I know it's short notice, but could you cover my 1:00 class? A couple of detectives are here about Farley's murder… Thank you. I promise I'll make it up to you."

When she hung up, Detective Martinez said, "This will only take a minute. You don't have to miss your class. They're just some routine questions."

"No problem! Shoot! Well, not literally!" They all laughed. She was incredibly charming.

"Were you close to Professor Farley?"

"Oh, God, no!" was her enthusiastic response. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to speak ill of the dead, but I'm sure by now you know that Bill had quite a reputation. So, as a single gal, I had to be really careful around him."

"Careful, how?"

"The usual, you know, never find myself alone with him, especially after hours, and be careful with what I wore or how I bent in front of him, that kind of thing."

"That sounds like sexual harassment. Doesn't the school protect you?"

"Oh, they have a rigorous sexual harassment policy. But these things are really hard to prove. For example, how do you prove that someone's smile or stare is inappropriate?" At that moment she glanced at Detective Rogers, who cleared his throat and looked away. Martinez wanted to slap him.

"Did you know that a few students filed complaints against him?"

"Yes, he was placed on probation. We –I mean, the female staff– were glad to hear it. And we were hoping he would disappear, although murder isn't quite what we had in mind."

"No, of course not. And just one more question: Where were you on the night of the murder?"

A slight blush covered her cheeks and she smiled. It was very endearing. "Why?"

Rogers answered, "We have a witness that placed you outside of Farley's office at approximately 3:00 A.M."

"No, it couldn't have been me. I wasn't even on campus that night."

"Where were you?"

Again the crimson blush. "This is very uncomfortable." She kept glancing at Detective Rogers.

"Detective Rogers," said Martinez, "Could you wait for me outside? I think Dr. Montgomery would feel more comfortable with a woman."

"No problem," he said and stepped outside.

"Thank you," said the young professor relieved. "I would die if I had to say this in front of him. I was with a man. And he is _not_ my husband. In fact, he isn't even my boyfriend. Yet."

Detective Martinez smiled. She immediately felt drawn to this conservative southern girl living in the big, corrupting city. She wanted to hug her and tell her that she wouldn't tell Mama and that Jesus would forgive her.

"I don't do that, _ever_. But he's just so special."

"Who were you with and where?"

"With Dr. Spencer Reid, at his apartment."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Two days after the Seattle spree killings began, they ended for good. Suicide by cop was the coward's choice of exit from this world, and Hotch took care of it without even blinking. What little remorse he felt was surely being kissed away by Emily right now. Ever since their elopement he wasn't in such a hurry to get home after a case. Now-a-days the Unit Chief didn't mind spending whatever was left of the afternoon or evening at the hotel and departing first thing in the morning after a good night's rest. And the team thoroughly enjoyed the few hours of leisure that the new Hotch bestowed upon them. Tonight they were heading to Joe's, the little bar near the hospital, to meet with the friendly doctors that had been so helpful on the case.

"You coming, Reid?" asked Morgan. "It stopped raining, so you don't have to take your raincoat." To Reid's chagrin everyone laughed. The raincoat had been a source of jeering throughout the case because it made Reid look like a "fifteen-year-old girl." The only thing Reid couldn't understand was why nobody else used a raincoat in that constant cloud of fog and rain called Seattle.

"You know what, Morgan? Bite me!" answered Reid, using a come-back out of Emily's _emergency only_ list.

"Ouch! That hurt, Pretty Boy!" laughed Morgan. "I'm heartbroken."

"You'll get over it," was Reid's bitter reply.

"Seriously, kid, you're not coming?" intervened Rossi before things got ugly. "I think it would do you good to get out."

"Thanks, but no, you guys go ahead. I don't feel like hanging out tonight. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay, Spence, but if you change your mind, you know where we'll be." Of course, that was J.J.

"Sure thing. Thanks. You guys have fun."

He watched them leave and then rushed to his room. Garcia had finally sent him the files he requested and he was eager to read them. He sat down in an armchair and immersed himself into the life of Dr. Alison Montgomery.

Her IQ was one point higher than his, but she didn't graduate from high school until age 15. _Strange. Why so late? _ She was born and raised in Naples, Florida, until age eight, when her parents died in a boating accident. _Unfortunate. _Her older brother and his wife received custody of the child and took her into their loving home in Peru, where they were the lead archaeologists of several important digs. So the young Alison grew up among the indigenous peoples of Peru. _Which explains the late graduation date: she was learning their languages and culture while teaching them English. More than enough to satisfy her intellectual needs. _

Her first degree was in Mechanical Engineering at age 16, from the National University of Engineering in Lima, Peru. That same year she invented several devices to extract ground water. There was an article about the poverty-stricken indigenous communities that benefitted from these simple devices, and how their quality of life improved by 60% from just having water.

Her second degree was in Agricultural Engineering at age 17, from the National Agrarian University, in Lima. She implemented her knowledge in a failed agricultural community that soon afterwards started to thrive.

At age 18 she moved with her brother and his wife to a remote mountainous region. There was an article about a birthing center that was set up that year with a picture of five midwives trained by the young Alison Montgomery.

At age 19 Alison accompanied her brother and his pregnant wife back home to the States. The brother found her a position at Georgetown, his own alma mater, while the couple returned to the family estate in Naples.

By age 20 Alison had acquired her first Ph.D. in Anthropology, and was actively lobbying for Human Rights. She also ran a hotline for rape victims. And in her spare time she helped female Ph.D. candidates with their theses. This was the life of Dr. Alison Montgomery, a life of service and self-sacrifice.

Reid estimated the number of lives –of children– that her efforts helped to save from disease and starvation, or from poverty and hopelessness. Probably more lives than Reid had saved, and without the gruesomeness or the nightmares. On the contrary, she was happy. The happiness that can only come from giving. And she gave her life to the people around her.

No, Alison Montgomery was not a murderer, not even by accident or self-defense. It just wasn't in her. Whatever role she played in the cover-up of the murder of Professor Farley was to protect someone. To protect someone wronged by the professor. To protect someone who could not protect herself. Of that Reid was convinced. What worried him was how far she was willing to go to protect the murderer. Was she willing to throw away her whole life for this? And if so, why?

Next, Spencer read a 450-page book, "The Indigenous Women of Peru: Stories of Heartbreak and Triumph," by Dr. Alison Montgomery. It had been a while since he last enjoyed a book so thoroughly. Afterwards, he felt like he knew her intimately. Her choice of words and turn of phrase was definitely southern, but marked by foreign influence. She had completely assimilated the culture, especially the religious practices, of the Peruvian natives. It's what had helped her to cope with the loss of her parents. And she was struggling with the lack of values of Western society back home in America. Reid painfully realized that this was the first time since Maeve that he so desperately wanted to enjoy a woman's company. No, not _a_ woman. _This_ woman.

Reid was disturbed by the door opening and closing in the next room. Morgan was back. 4:00 A.M. already. So turning off the lamp at his night table, he decided to get some rest before the flight.

* * *

_**Author's note: You will have noticed that Hotch and Emily are married here. And Joe's is the little bar in Grey's Anatomy. Thank you for reading. **_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Detective Martinez re-analyzed the case with this new piece of information. The way Dr. Spencer Reid handled the crime scene was off, from the very moment he walked into the office of that pervert Farley. Spencer didn't ask a few basic questions, like _Who found the body? _or _Was the night-shift janitorial staff interviewed? _It was like if he really wasn't trying to find the killer… Like he was just going through the motions. But to what end?

However, Spencer did give her his card. In fact, he even called and offered to help out when he returned from Seattle. He wouldn't do that if he were hiding something, would he? But his connection with Dr. Montgomery… Well, he did mention knowing someone in the Anthropology Department. Obviously, he was referring to her.

But Reid and Montgomery together? No way! He was so awkward and nerdy, while she was so beautiful and refined. Surely, he wouldn't know what to do with _all that_ woman. Well, they did have a lot in common: young and brilliant, with Ph.D. status. She could understand Reid's intellectual appeal to a woman like Montgomery. But the sex-appeal, not so much. However, the woman she just questioned was head-over-heals in love with the guy. Was it a ruse?

That didn't make any sense. A simple phone call was enough to check out the alibi. And that's exactly what she would do. Right now. Simply call Dr. Spencer Reid. And surveillance and a phone tap on Dr. Montgomery was also looking like a good idea. And where was her partner Rogers? She had an earful for him too.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Reid felt restless at take-off and a five-hour flight awaited him. A disturbing statistic had entered his brain and he couldn't get rid of it. _A good kiss can elevate a woman's pulse to 100 beats per minute. _He saw it in a stupid magazine at the lobby while waiting for the team to have breakfast. And it was really bothering him: that women kiss and tell enough to produce quantifiable data. Statistics, for God's sake, on the quality of a lover's kiss. He was maddened by the thought that Dr. Alison Montgomery might not enjoy a kiss from him. The team sensed Reid's dark mood and left him alone. Even Morgan backed off, waiting for a good opportunity to ask him what was wrong.

Reid thought about the women he had kissed in the past. Less than the number of fingers on one hand. They seemed to enjoy him, but then again they were good people. He didn't think they would want to hurt him by saying, "Hey, Spencer, you really need to take kissing lessons!"

Kissing lessons! That was brilliant. If he could kiss someone, then she could tell him if it was good or not. But who?

Emily noticed that Reid was staring at her and started to grow uncomfortable.

"Reid?"

"Huh?"

"You're staring at me."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Is there anything you needed?"

"I was just wondering." Here goes nothing. "Do you think Hotch would mind much if I kissed you?"

Hotch tore his eyes from the file he was studying and turned his intense gaze at Reid. The rest of the team also stared in disbelief. Reid, as usual, was oblivious to the fact that the situation was socially awkward.

"You want to kiss me?" asked Emily. She knew it wasn't a joke. This was Reid. There was a purpose to all this.

"I'll kiss you, Reid," offered J. J. in an attempt to relieve the tension.

That was out of the question. Spencer had a crush on J.J. for the longest time and he just didn't think it was appropriate to kiss her. It would feel like he was taking advantage of her. So he said, "No, I thought of you J. J., but discarded the idea. It has to be Emily."

Morgan exploded in laughter and immediately covered his mouth to mute the sound. This was weird, even for Reid. Weird, but funny as hell!

"What's this about, Reid?" asked Hotch, more worried about the kid than anything else. Maybe he had finally lost his mind.

Reid looked around and noticed everyone's expression. "Forget it," he said. "It was just a thought."

But then Emily realized the point. "Oh, you're thinking about kissing someone. And you want to practice with me first, right?"

"If it's okay with Hotch."

The team burst into laughter while Reid started to get defensive.

"What about this?" offered Hotch. "Why don't I kiss her and you watch?"

"No, that's not as effective as doing it myself."

"Well, that'll be over my dead body, kid," replied Hotch with a smile. And Emily playfully slapped her husband on the arm.

"So who do you want to kiss, Reid?" And the endless questions and teasing came. Reid finally decided to put some headphones on. It took a long time for their mouths to stop moving and for the laughter to fade from their faces. Okay, so maybe requesting kissing lessons hadn't been such a good idea.

* * *

_**Author's Note: I absolutely love this chapter!**_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

It was 4:00 P.M. when the team walked into the bullpen and found their desks. The race was on to finish the mountain of paperwork that followed each case. But the encouraging thought of home and of sleeping in their own beds tonight gave them the will power to concentrate.

Reid heard his text message alert and reached for his phone. It was her!

_Where R U?_

Reid smiled. She was thinking about him, possibly even waiting for him. _At Quantico. Just got back._

Seconds later: _Would you like to play a childish game?_

Not exactly what he expected, but it promised to be interesting. _Sure._

_Yvuan py clrkl. Wg wnah tngnyket tqjw nkgqc. Gevelclvg ov cr uu._

A cipher! He wondered if she knew how much this turned him on! His work forgotten, Reid wrote the rune on a piece of paper. First he had to determine the code's type. She said it was "childish," so it was simple or elementary. Probably a date shift cypher, the first one he learned as a boy. But which date should he use as the key? He decided to try with her birthday. After all, that's the first date of importance to a child. February 9, 1993, which translated to 020993. Using the key, Reid decoded the message and stared at it in panic. _You're my alibi. We were together that night. Detective on to us._

He felt the beginnings of a migraine as his thoughts raced. She was forced to give an alibi, which meant she had been questioned. And if she had been questioned, either there was a witness, or a person of interest had given up her name. And if she used a cypher to communicate with him, well that could only mean that her phone was tapped. And guessing from the fact that she used a simple code, one that he cracked in less than two minutes, there was very little time.

_Okay, Spencer, what are you going to do? _This was no longer a game or innocent flirting. This was true crime. She lied to a detective and gave a false alibi. For that alone she could get charged with obstruction of justice. Not to mention her possible involvement, scratch that, _probable_ involvement in the murder of William Farley. Reid clearly understood the choices laid out before him. He could, and should, cut bait and let her face the consequences of her actions. Or he could play along with the ruse to his utter undoing. And for what? _What's it going to be, Spence?_

Just then his phone rang. Damn it! Detective Martinez. He let it go to voicemail. A few seconds later he heard the phone ring in Hotch's office. Surely, it was her. It was definitely time to get out of there. Spencer walked away as casually as possible, leaving his phone on his desk. He exited the building and sprinted to the Metro. He had to see her just one last time.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Reid walked into the lecture hall just in time to catch the conclusion of "The Natural Rights of Man [and Woman], According to John Locke." There were easily about 500 people in the audience and they were hanging on to her every word. She was an engaging speaker, the kind you could listen to with pleasure for hours at a time. Her delivery was flawless. And Reid noticed that she had the adorable habit of pressing her hand against her chest to avoid showing any cleavage when she bent. This, of course, brought Reid's attention to her full breasts carefully hidden behind the fabric. With a smile, Reid wondered at what age she started that habit. There were so many things about her that he wanted to know, and it made him sad to think that he probably wouldn't get a chance to. Which reminded him… He profiled the audience until he found him in the third row, left side, near the exit. The undercover police officer was young and handsome. He looked like a student and blended in perfectly.

When the lecture ended the audience thundered in applause. Reid made his way down to her, but he was going against traffic. He endured a few shoves and reached the first row. Lots of students crowded her podium, thanking her and peppering her with questions. Amused, Reid noticed that they were her groupies. Dr. Alison Montgomery finally spotted him and stopped mid-sentence.

"Excuse me, everyone," she half-announced, and the students looked at Reid. "I need to properly welcome Dr. Spencer Reid."

She emphasized the title _doctor _in a way that pleased his ego. She approached him and grabbed him by the lapel with both hands. Then she kissed him good and full on the lips. His initial surprise turned into a hunger he hadn't felt in a long time. When she introduced her tongue into his mouth, his own battled hers for dominance and he pressed his body flush against hers. The students guffawed in surprise and amusement. And Reid rejoiced in this discovery of self: he was an alpha male, every bit as much as Hotch, or Morgan, or Rossi. He felt absolutely primal, and this woman had to be his.

The kiss ended just as abruptly as it had started and she whispered in his ear, "I thought you would be angry at me for saying we were together that night."

"Right now I'm just angry that we weren't."

"Well, that's the one thing we can solve. Let's get out of here."

"Lead the way, doctor," he said. _Yes._ _Wherever you lead, I will follow._


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

_Content Warning: Love scene. Sensitive readers, please skip to paragraph 3._

That afternoon, Spencer discovered that it is one thing to read about the wonders of the female orgasm, and quite another to cause it. He watched in awe as Dr. Alison Montgomery quivered in ecstasy beneath him. But then his ever active brain told him that faking it was a common phenomenon in the human female species. _No way!_ She would have to be an actress to make it look so real. But, just to be sure, he made it happen again.

It was hard, hard work, and it required a stamina that he didn't know he possessed. Several times his arms gave way and he had to interrupt his thrusting to recover. But the pleasure of the work was far beyond his comprehension. Because there was no rational way to explain how amazing it felt. And, at last, his own fulfillment nearly blinded him with its strength. Afterwards, his whole body trembled from the exertion, and Spencer thought he was surely dying.

"You're an amazing lover," she laughed when he fell on his back pulling her onto his chest.

He wanted to tell her so many things just then, but he literally could not speak.

"Spencer? Are you okay?" she asked with concern in her amazing eyes.

"I will be," he said weakly, and she snuggled tightly against him. His pulse and labored breathing eventually slowed and the deepest lethargy he had ever felt took over his senses. It was beyond his power to resist and he fell into a profound slumber.

He slept deep and long. Several hours later he awoke in a bewildered state. It took him a moment to remember that he was with Alison at a room they paid for in cash at a quaint little inn just outside town. It was completely dark and she was asleep next to him. He could hear her steady breathing. Images of their coupling came to mind and he smiled lazily. He reached for her and tucked her under his arm, pulling the sheets over them. The sensation of her breasts against his chest made him stir once again, but he let her rest. She was so very tired. He was willing to bet this was the first time she had really slept since the night of the murder. What happened that night? It was time he knew the truth.

It was after midnight when they both awoke ravenous and thirsty. They quickly got dressed in a light, happy mood, and ended up at a nearby diner that served breakfast 24 hours a day. They kept an easy banter over a stack of pancakes and a huge plate of scrambled eggs with farmer's toast. Conversation flowed and laughter came naturally. But after the meal, over a pot of coffee, Spencer decided it was time to bring up the subject.

"Alison," he grabbed her hand and looked into her eyes.

"I know," she said. "You want an explanation. It's the least I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything," Reid reassured her. "But I want a future with you. Let's try to figure this out."

"Oh, Spencer," she whispered, and her eyes filled with tears. "You can't fix this. I'm going to prison."

"Tell me what happened."

She sighed and started her account. "I was at home reading student papers. It was around 3 A.M. when she called. She was hysterical! I thought she had been raped again. That's how I know her. She called the hotline two weeks ago. She had been raped by a professor, but wouldn't say who."

"Are you talking about Darcy Evans?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And Farley did it?"

"Yes, but I didn't know it was him until that night. She told me she killed him."

"How did you end up at the crime scene?"

"She was such a mess! And she wasn't even sure if he was really dead. So I went over there."

"Alison," sighed Reid.

"I know, Spencer. You have no idea how sorry I am. It was so stupid of me to go there!"

"What happened when you arrived?"

"First, I calmed her down and she kept saying, _I did it, Alison. I did exactly what you said."_

"What did she mean?"

"Well, two weeks ago, when she called the hotline, I went to her myself. She was in really bad shape. I took her to the hospital, and I told her that whoever did that to her deserved to die."

"Jesus, Alison!"

"I know!"

"So what happened next?"

"I was scared. My first instinct was to get rid of any trace of evidence. So …" She couldn't finish the sentence. "I'm so ashamed!"

"You cleaned everything," finished Reid.

"No, no! I didn't clean anything. But I told her to." Her tears were finally falling. "So how bad is it?"

"Bad. A tough prosecutor will charge you with accessory to murder. First-degree, because he could argue it was premediated."

"Oh, Spencer! And to think that I got you involved."

"Well, they still haven't questioned me."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. But I'm not worried about myself. I'm worried about you. You have to give yourself up, Alison. If you confess, the sentence might be lighter. And Darcy could argue temporary insanity."

"Or I could run away! You could come with me, Spencer!"

"Alison, there's nowhere we can go. They will find us."

"We could go to Peru. We could live with the indigenous peoples there. We could hide forever."

"They would find us, babe. And is that how you want to live for the rest of your life, looking over your shoulder?"

"So this is it, then. One day is all we get?"

"It's out of our hands."

"Then you should leave me. Now." She dried her tears and regained control. She was a strong, independent woman. She would be fine.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here by your side, through it all. I promise."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Dr. Spencer Reid came home exhausted and in pain. His chest hurt. And every muscle in his body was sore from his prolonged… activity. After their meal at the diner they returned to the little room at the inn and a very emotional Dr. Alison Montgomery begged him to make love to her once again. But during his most vigorous efforts she started crying.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, fully alarmed. It took all of his self-control to stop and ask, "Did I hurt you?"

"No, no," she cried, "Please don't stop, Spencer. Just make me forget."

And he did indeed make her forget, several times, in fact. He took her away from this world and all its sadness to an _oohhh, ahhh, ohhh_ so lovely place. The morning sun was high in the sky when they awoke, and she was ready once again. Fortunately for the exhausted Spencer, she was in a dominating mood, and so he felt all the pleasure without doing any of the work.

Tired, but unbelievably happy, is how Spencer reached his apartment landing to find a figure on his haunches in front of the door. He rose tall, ever taller. A black suit and tie, and a petrifying glare.

"Hotch? What are you doing here? How long have you been here?"

"Where have you been, Spencer?" _Angry Hotch. Worse than normal Hotch. Oh, this will not be good._

"Um, with a … friend."

"Clearly," said Hotch. "I can see the love bites on your neck."

"Oh," Reid had forgotten about those. He nervously covered his neck with his hand. What for? He had no idea. It's just that he had always feared being the object of Hotch's displeased scrutiny. Everyone on the team had had to endure it, even Emily. Now it was Reid's turn.

"I thought you might need this." He handed Reid his phone.

"Oh, thanks. Please, come in." Reid took out his key and opened the door, only if to have a reason to turn away from the intimidating glare. They both stepped into the apartment and the air grew thick with tension.

"So what's going on, Reid?"

"Nothing, I just…" At that moment, the shoulder strap of his messenger bag shifted his shirt, partially revealing his chest, and Hotch's eyes widened.

"What is that?"

"Nothing," said Reid, quickly covering his skin.

"Spencer Reid, did you get a tattoo?"

Okay, now Reid was sick of this interrogation. "Yeah, Dad, I got a tattoo."

Hotch's reaction was of absolute incredulity. The kid's attitude. And a _tattoo_?

"I'm sorry. That was out of line," said Reid. "I mean no disrespect."

Hotch lowered his tone and, with genuine curiosity, asked, "What about your fear of germs? A tattoo parlor? Seriously?"

"It was a really clean place." Then impatiently, "Look, are we done here? Because there's somewhere I have to be at 3:00."

"_Are we done here? _Is that all you have to say to me? Really, Spencer? Workplace abandonment?"

"Oh, _that_," Spencer was relieved that Hotch's wrath had nothing to do with the Farley case.

"Yes, _that_. _That_ could get you fired. And leaving your phone? How was I going to contact you if we had a case?"

"But, Hotch, we just got back. Don't we get a couple days off?"

"Yes, _after_ your paperwork is done."

"Oh, that's what this is about! My paperwork!" Reid knew he was being petty, but he just couldn't stop. All of a sudden, he felt a deep satisfaction in pushing Hotch's buttons, _in playing with fire,_ although he didn't quite understand why. "I'll do it right now, if it'll get you off my back."

"Don't bother! I took care of it myself."

"Then, why are we still standing here, man? I've gotta go!"

_Was this kid trying to pick a fight? On purpose? _Hotch felt the edges of his control crumbling with every passing second. What the hell was wrong with Reid? He decided to leave, that it was best to take care of this on Monday in the sanctuary of his office. He'd be in absolute control there, where he was always Agent Hotchner. Because right now he was Aaron. And Aaron wanted to slap Spencer till he cried. Aaron opened the door and left with Reid watching from the landing. Midway down, he remembered the phone call.

"Oh, and there's a Detective Martinez checking up on you. She called yesterday and made me promise to give you her message to call her." Now Aaron saw fear in the kid's eyes.

"She's the lead on the Georgetown homicide. What did she want?"

"She was asking all kinds of questions about your performance at work, bent on knowing if you're any good in the field. And she asked if I knew where you were the night of the murder."

Reid didn't have a poker face. He was obviously uncomfortable. Aaron softened again and said, "Spencer, if you're in any trouble…"

"I'm not!"

"But if you were, you know you could come to me, or Emily if you preferred…"

"No, Hotch, I would go straight to you. _If _I were in trouble."

"Good. You know, kid, I don't ever say it, but…" he just couldn't finish. Hotch wasn't the type to vocalize his _I love yous. _To Emily, yes, because he was motivated by other instincts and desires. But how could he tell Spencer that he loved him like a son?

"I know, Hotch. I know it." He understood what Hotch wanted to say.

"Good. And if you'll allow me to say this: I don't think this girl is any good for you. She's changing you."

"Well, maybe that's a good thing."

"No, Spencer. I'm afraid it isn't." And he left.

Reid closed the door with Hotch's words ringing in his ears.

"Who are you to say so?" he said aloud. And he heard the answer in his brain, "Self-sacrificing boss. Best profiler. Loving father figure. Good friend. That's who. Who's Dr. Alison Montgomery?"

He looked at his tattoo in the mirror with immense pride. How manly was that? She had branded him, right over the heart. He smiled remembering their pillow talk.

"Do you know what the Yuru people do when they find their soul mate?" she asked.

"The Yuru. That's an Amazonian tribe, right?"

"Yes. I was with them for several years. Happiest days of my life, actually."

"What do they do?"

"They brand each other."

"What? Like with a hot iron brand?"

"Yes, exactly like that. They mark each other forever. Claiming each other through pain. It's one of their mating rituals."

"Like a tattoo," said Reid. That's how they ended up at the parlor choosing each other's tattoos. She chose the Celtic symbol of courage for him.

"I'm not really all that brave, Alison," he laughed. He knew that if he were brave, he wouldn't succumb to night terrors so often.

"Yes, you are, Spencer," she objected passionately. "You're the bravest man I know. To face the evil that you deal with, to stare it in the eye and not let it change you, that's courage."

Her words touched him deeply. Deeply enough to endure the torture of getting inked without screaming like a girl.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Detective Martinez slammed the phone down. She was having a bad day, to put it mildly. The witness that saw Dr. Montgomery just outside of Farley's office couldn't remember for sure if it was the night of the murder or if it was the previous night. Perfect. Not that she liked Dr. Montgomery for the murder. It's just that she was running out of leads. But come to think of it, that wasn't even a lead. The undercover cop on campus had called to confirm the relationship between Dr. Montgomery and Dr. Reid.

"Are you sure?" asked Martinez, disappointed.

"They look pretty hot and heavy to me," he laughed. "Want me to record this kiss for you?"

"No, thanks," she said sardonically.

But the bad news didn't stop there. The judge hadn't granted a search warrant for Darcy Evans' dorm, and the girl's lawyer wasn't allowing the cops anywhere near his client. There was no evidence at the crime scene. And the murder weapon had not been recovered. Go figure! _The perfect murder._ So Martinez was at a dead end, no pun intended. She had no idea what to do now. Her cell phone rang and ended her pity party. It was Dr. Spencer Reid.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Spencer was getting worried. They had made the decision together. He would pick her up at 3:00 at her Georgetown apartment and they would go to the precinct together. But it was already 3:30 and there was no sign of Alison. Cell phone went straight to voicemail again and Spencer panicked. Maybe she did run away. Maybe she was on a flight to Peru right now. That was utterly ridiculous, but his thoughts no longer surprised him. With each passing day he became increasingly absurd. Rather than stick around there feeling like an idiot, he decided to check her office.

It was a fifteen minute walk to her building, but the stroll through the beautiful campus did nothing to ease his troubled mind. He climbed the steps two at a time to the second floor and sighed in relief when he saw her. Dr. Montgomery's office was loud and full. Students were handing in papers and chatting away happily. Spencer patiently waited for the meeting to end, assessing her mood. She was as lively and as enchanting as ever.

"See you all in class," said Dr. Montgomery when the kids took their leave. Spencer closed the door after them and an uncomfortable silence filled the small space. She waited for him to speak.

"You're not going down to the precinct, are you?" Obviously, not. Spencer was now convinced that being in love had greatly reduced his IQ.

"Spencer, please don't be angry."

"I'm not angry," he said softly, his voice betraying the depths of his feelings for her. "I just want what's best for you. And I know that keeping quiet will end really badly!"

She stepped around her desk and kissed him gently. He inhaled her scent and took her hands in his. "You don't have to worry. I spoke with Darcy! She isn't going to say anything!"

"You did what?" A surge of panic made him raise his voice. "Did you call her?"

"No, of course not! She sought me out! I saw her through my bedroom window. She was at the little plaza in front of my building. So I went down there."

"Alison, you know you're being followed. You probably made things worse!"

"No, I think it's over! Her lawyer said the cops don't have any evidence. He's confident that they can't charge her. But even if they did, she promised she would never mention me!" Alison was giddy with … excitement? Wouldn't relief be a more appropriate reaction?

"Alison, there's still a problem. You lied to the detective. You gave her a false alibi!"

"Nobody knows it's false, Spencer."

His blood turned ice cold. "And what do you want me to say when she calls me to verify it?" He knew what she wanted. But he needed to hear it. He needed her to say it out loud.

"Spencer… I know I shouldn't ask you to do this."

"No, Alison! You can_not_ ask me to do this. I am an FBI agent! I swore an oath to uphold the law. How can you even think of asking me to do this? I could lose everything!"

She broke down in tears and sobbed, "I don't want that, Spencer! But I don't want to go to prison, either. And how can I betray Darcy like that? She's been through enough, you have no idea what that man did to her. He deserved to die!"

"Do you even hear yourself, Alison? She is a murderer! You can't let her get away with this, not even to save your own skin!"

"So you would put me in the hands of blind justice? Spencer, I am your girlfriend, your lover! Does _this_ mean nothing to you?" And she tore open her blouse, buttons popping, to reveal the red rose tattooed on the milky white skin just above her left breast. She was wearing a black lace bra and her eyes sparkled with the intensity of her anger. Spencer was overcome with desire, and in that precise moment two choices presented themselves before him. He could strangle her. Or he could take her, right there, on the great mahogany desk. Fortunately for Dr. Montgomery, he chose the latter.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

That erotic encounter awarded him the most explosive release he had ever experienced, and witnessed, because she had by no means been submissive. But it was followed by intense self-loathing. He refused to give in to the emotional needs that followed fulfillment. He refused to gather her into his arms and reassure her with endearments. Without a word, he bitterly found his clothes and got dressed. He had never felt so used, so small. His anger gave him just enough energy to flee from the small office, slamming the door shut behind him.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"Martinez, here."

"Hi, it's Spencer. I was just checking in on the Farley case. What have you got so far?" His voice trembled over the phone. He was really going to do it! He was going to lie to the lead detective of a murder investigation. He was going to say that Alison was with him on the night of the murder. And he was going to keep his mouth shut about Darcy. Suddenly he felt unsteady, so he flopped down on his couch.

"I'll tell you what I've got," responded the peeved detective. "I've got a dead body, no leads, and the captain breathing down my neck. That's what I've got."

Spencer remembered how to breathe. "What do you mean? What about the girl you arrested?"

"Had to cut her loose. We couldn't recover any evidence to link her to the crime. Even her alibi checked out. Which reminds me…"

Spencer interrupted, "Yeah, about that: Alison told me you questioned her. Is she a suspect, for crying out loud?"

"No, not really. Sorry about that. And I had no idea you two were together."

"Well, you're just following your gut, right? But that's too bad."

"What's too bad?"

"Now I can't help you with the investigation."

"Why not?"

"Well, you're case would get thrown out because I'm involved with a person of interest."

"Damn it! That's true!"

"So I guess that's it." Spencer crossed his fingers and winced.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Oh, and one more thing," he added. "Why did you call my boss? He really put the heat on me."

"Yeah, well, like you said, I was just following my gut."

"Okay, but next time you're gut takes you to S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner, please let me know beforehand so I can flee the country!"

She laughed at that. "Okay, Spencer, you got it."

By the time they hung up, Spencer's heart was racing out of his chest. He closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning. And he felt sick in the pit of his stomach.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Sunday should have been a relaxing day. It was, in fact, his favorite day of the week. But for someone as brilliant as Dr. Spencer Reid, it's impossible to just turn off the brain to get some rest. He couldn't read. He couldn't write. He couldn't watch Star Trek. Because his thoughts were louder than usual. And, closed up in his small, dark apartment, Spencer could hear the echo of those thoughts bouncing off the walls. He needed to get out.

He walked for hours, until his legs were numb, and he ended up at a park with a pond. Where was he? He had no idea, and he didn't care. He simply sat down on a bench and watched the water. It was beautiful and soothing. It eventually grew quiet enough in his head to be able to appreciate the sounds around him: the rustling of leaves, the soft roll of little waves on the shore, a bird's song, the scurry of a squirrel racing up a tree. He closed his eyes and the sounds were heightened. Now he could also feel the cool, autumn breeze against his skin and the warmth of the sun on his face. He took a deep breath and inhaled the forest air. Soon he would have dozed off, but his phone rang.

It was her. Spencer waited a few minutes and then called his voicemail. Zero messages.

He wondered why she had called. Given that she wasn't arrested, surely, by now she knew that he had covered for her. So, why was she calling, if she already got what she needed from him? And so he started to hope. Again. Maybe he could call her back. But then he angrily rose to his feet, cursing himself for being so naïve.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

On Monday morning the team assembled in the bullpen around Morgan's desk just before starting their workday. Emily nursed her Starbuck's cup and took delicate sips between giggles as Penelope related the awful plot to a guy-movie Morgan forced her to watch.

"Oh, come on, Goddess, you know you loved it!" joked Morgan.

"It was terrible! And, to top it off, there weren't even any hot actors!"

"What? No eye candy? How ever did you cope?" laughed J.J.

At nine o'clock on the dot, Hotch popped out of his office to summon the team. But Emily caught his eye and he briefly forgot what he was going to say. They had celebrated their first anniversary last night and memories of their bedroom intimacies popped into his mind. They shared a knowing smile and then he called the team upstairs.

The team took their places at the round table. Penelope was begging Morgan to never make his girlfriend watch that movie, that is, if he ever got a girlfriend.

"But you're my girlfriend, Baby Girl. Don't you remember, you said so last night, right before I…"

"Okay, let's get started," said Hotch, prudently interrupting Morgan's banter. He made a mental note to sign those two up for the next sexual harassment seminar, just to be safe. He looked around the table at his agents and asked, "Where's Reid?"

"Right here," said Spencer, taking off his messenger bag and sitting down next to Morgan.

The agents kindly welcomed him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes. They could sense that it was more than just a rough night. Spencer was deeply troubled.

Hotch continued with the Monday morning briefing. "So I requested that we be taken off rotation for a week…"

"Perfect," complained Reid. "Just perfect."

Everyone looked at Reid and then at the boss. Hotch decided to continue, "… because some of you have your firearms recertification to worry about. Emily, Rossi, I need you to get that out of the way ASAP." They both nodded. "J.J., I signed you up for that hand-to-hand combat certification – the one you had to interrupt because of the Wyoming case. And Morgan and Spencer, you'll be working with Penelope on a little project in Forensic Recovery. She requested you both." Morgan nodded and winked at his Baby Girl. She smiled and winked back.

But Reid said, "No!"

"Reid?" asked Hotch.

"That's not what I'll be doing this week, Hotch. Because I swear I would rather kill myself than have to spend a week listening to their innuendo." There was fire in his eyes, and he told Morgan, "Why don't you two just do it and get it over with? Because maybe afterwards, the rest of us wouldn't have to hear you talking about it all the time!"

The team, including Hotch, was in shock. Utter shock. Penelope's eyes filled with tears, but she remained silent. Morgan wanted to kill him, but he remained silent. This was Hotch's call.

"Will all of you please leave us the room?"

The team silently filed out.

"WTF?" whispered Emily and J.J. shrugged. Rossi was the last one out. He gave the kid a sympathetic glance and closed the door behind him.

"Is there anything else you want to get off your chest?" asked Hotch taking a seat next to him.

"No… You know what? Yes," he spoke in a rush. "The one thing –the only thing– I was counting on today was a case. And we're off rotation? Then why am I here?" He was so frustrated, and so tired. Hotch had only seen him like this once. After Tobias Hankle.

"Anything else?" asked Hotch, hoping that Reid would open up to him, because if he didn't say what was bothering him, then there was no way to help him.

"No," said Reid. There was silence. Hotch looked out the window and saw the team in the bullpen. Penelope was crying in Morgan's arms. The others were looking up at the boss's office. Would this affect his team permanently? To purposely hurt Penelope like that. Of all people, Penelope. Was that something the team could forgive Reid for?

"S.S.A. Spencer Reid, you're suspended," he finally decided. Spencer held his breath. It was to be expected. But the reality hurt much more than the expectation. And the way Hotch was looking at him, with disappointment and worry. It was killing Reid. "Please hand in your badge and weapon."

"For how long?" asked Spencer with a lump in his throat.

"That depends on you, Spencer."

"How so?"

"I'm requiring that you get cleared for duty by Psych. So the sooner you schedule your appointment, the sooner you can return."

Spencer smiled, "You know, Hotch, I probably wouldn't have passed that eval even before…"

"Even before what, Spencer?"

"Nothing."

Hotch paused, making sure he wasn't going to say anything else. "Then this was a long time coming."

"I guess so. Is that it?"

"If you want it to be, then, yes."

Reid stood up followed by Hotch. He placed a fatherly hand on the young man's shoulder. "I'm a phone call away, day or night, Spencer."

"Thanks," said Reid. "I might take you up on that."

"I hope you do."

The team watched silently as Reid handed Hotch his gun and credentials.

"What's happening, Em?" asked J.J.

"I think he's suspended, or fired."

"Fired?"

"Maybe. Heads up, here he comes."

The team scattered to their desks and acted busy as Reid slowly walked down the stairs. He went to his desk and picked up his go-bag. There was a tense silence. He knew they were mad at him. Hell, he was mad at himself.

"I'm sorry," he said to no one in particular. He knew that wasn't enough. But frankly, that's all he had right now. He would make amends with Penelope and with Morgan. But not today. He just couldn't. "I'm really sorry." And it broke his heart that when he left, no one said anything.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"Come on, Reid. Open up!" said Emily as she pounded on his apartment door. Reid opened one eye. 7:30 P.M.

"We know you're in there!" she insisted.

_Who's we? _With a sigh, he rolled off the sofa and opened the door.

"Morgan. Penelope," he said startled. He did not expect to see them there.

"Yeah, kid, you were a real jerk, but we're still worried about you," said Morgan letting himself in with a six-pack of cold beer. Emily walked in with the pizza and J.J. with drinks. But Penelope stood in the doorway batting her sad puppy eyes at him. She was expecting an apology.

"Penelope," he started, "I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me." But he could tell it wasn't enough. "Look, I'm going through a tough time, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"You made me cry, Reid."

"I know, and I feel awful. You know how much I care about you. I can't believe I treated you like that. Please forgive me." His words failed and he started to stutter.

She finally softened and said, "Do not let that happen ever again."

"I promise it won't." He was so relieved he pulled her into a tight hug. He had never hugged her. Not like that. And she was startled by how strong his lean frame felt.

J.J. and Emily were beyond happy that they had made up, and Morgan begged, "What about me, Pretty Boy? Don't I get a hug?"

"No way!" responded Reid and he took a seat on the floor around the coffee table with his family. When he ate his first pizza he realized how hungry he was and he thanked them for coming. After eating and making up with his friends, he felt so much better.

"Okay, Reid," said Morgan. "This is the part where you tell us what's wrong, and we fix it."

"You can't fix this, Morgan. Nobody can."

"Well, how about this?" said Emily, treading cautiously. He hadn't denied that something was troubling him, or told them to mind their own business, and he looked like he could open up. So she didn't want to scare him away. "Let's keep this very superficial. We're not going to ask you any details. Just give us a general idea of what this is about."

"Yeah, kid. Are your migraines back? Or are you having nightmares again?" asked Morgan. And then with a worried glare, "Have you been using?"

"No, no. Actually, it's a lot simpler than that. And a lot more complicated." They were puzzled. And since there was just no other way to say it, he simply confessed, "It's a woman."

Eyes widened, jaws dropped, surprised looks were exchanged, and Morgan didn't think he had heard correctly.

"A woman?"

"Yes, a woman."

"Like a human being of the female species? A real flesh-and-blood woman?"

"Morgan, cut it out," chided J.J.

"No, I just want to make sure it isn't online or in virtual reality, or a video game or something."

"I wish it were," sighed Reid. "But it's an honest-to-God, real-life woman."

"Well, what happened?" asked Penelope.

How could he explain it without sounding like an idiot? Because it was pure idiocy. He had fallen in love with a beautiful stranger. With a stranger whom he suspected of murder right from the beginning. And now he was heart-broken because she used him. And he was surely going to get fired when it all came to light, because even the best-kept secrets come to light sooner or later. It was utterly ridiculous. Reid started laughing when he realized how ridiculous it was.

"Reid, talk to us," coaxed Emily.

He grew serious again and said, "We met. And it was amazing." As he spoke, memories flashed before him. The flow of her dress when she walked. The look of ecstasy on her face when they made love. The glow of her bare skin bathed in the morning light. "Then we broke up. That's all."

That was not all, and they knew it. But they were happy he was giving them something.

"Okay, so this… real person, right? Correct me if I'm wrong here… Broke up with you because you two were in a relationship, a real one, right?" J.J. gave Morgan a warning glance and he shut up.

"No, I broke up with her because she was just using me, because of my job. And I feel like such an idiot because, even after all that, I still miss her."

"But, that's how love is, honey," said Penelope sweetly. "There's no way to rationalize it. We just feel it. Even if it's not the right thing for us."

"Yeah, you just can't help it, Spence," assured J.J.

"It's driving me crazy," said Reid truthfully. "It's all I can think about."

Emily wanted Morgan to say something. She made faces at him and he took the hint.

"Okay, so you're heartbroken. It happens to me a lot. You feel really bad for a while, and then you get over it."

"I wish it were that simple, Morgan."

"Well, make it that simple Reid. God! You're such a complicated guy."

Just then there was a knock on the door.

"That must be Hotch," said Emily rising to her feet. She checked the pizza box to make sure there were a few slices left for him, then she opened the door. Reid's heart stopped when he saw Dr. Alison Montgomery standing in his doorway.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Morgan was shocked, violently so. That woman was _Reid's_ girl. Impossible! Her hair. Her figure. Her legs. She was … well, gorgeous.

Spencer and Alison only had eyes for each other. When it was obvious that Reid was not going to introduce them, they let themselves out with the usual, "Uh, we were just on our way out. Yeah, thanks, Reid, see you… whenever." The team awkwardly fumbled out of the apartment and shut the door.

"Oh, my God!" whispered Emily.

"I know!" giggled J.J.

"I can't believe Reid is tapping that!" said Morgan.

"Morgan!" the ladies exclaimed.

J.J. was the first to put her ear to the door and the others followed.

"I can't hear anything," whispered Penelope.

"They're not saying anything," responded Emily.

J.J. shushed them when the couple inside the apartment started talking. The voices were muffled but every word was audible through the wooden door.

"Alison, why are you here? Is there anything else you need from me? Because I think I'm all used up already."

"Spencer, please, don't look at me like that. I had to see you."

"Why?"

"I don't know. It's like I can't function knowing that you're mad at me. Spencer, I don't think I can live another day without you. Please, I'll do anything to make it right between us."

"Make it right? Alison, do you think that's even possible? Because I know that it isn't."

"We can try."

"Why would I want to?"

Outside the door, Morgan whispered, "What the hell did she do to him?"

They all jumped when Hotch startled them from behind with, "What are you guys doing?"

"Hotch, shhhh!" whispered Emily.

"Reid is in there!" explained Penelope.

"Of course, he's in there. It's his apartment," replied Hotch, without whispering.

"No, no, you don't understand," said J.J.

"He's with a woman," said Penelope.

"Like, a real woman, Hotch. A gorgeous real life woman," added Morgan.

Suddenly, the door opened. Spencer held out the pizza box and said, "We saved these for you, Hotch." Then he looked at the team and said pointedly, "Goodnight, everyone!"

At first they didn't notice his disheveled hair or swollen lips. The team just stared at the tattoo beneath his unbuttoned shirt. And before they could ask any questions, Reid slammed his door shut.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The drive home was amusing to Hotch. With a smile, he watched Emily's varying facial expressions as she excitedly talked about Spencer, Spencer's new girlfriend, and above all, Spencer's tattoo. Her brow would furrow, she would laugh, she would look out her window in a meditative gaze, and then she would start all over again. Her deep concern for Spencer was evident. She was so thoughtful and maternal. And she was beautiful. If they hadn't been so close to home, Hotch would have been tempted to stop the car right there in that deserted parking lot to make love to her.

"That woman is driving Spencer crazy. And no wonder! Did you see her, Aaron?"

"No, unfortunately, I didn't get a chance. But Morgan said she was gorgeous."

"That's an understatement! And Spencer mentioned that she was just using him, but, Aaron, I saw the way she was looking at him. She loves him! I wonder when all this happened?"

"Well, I know he got the tattoo on Saturday."

"How do you know?"

And so Hotch told Emily about his conversation at Reid's apartment.

"What is wrong with him?" gasped Emily. "He has never given you attitude." She worried that her dear friend Spencer Reid was turning into a monster!

"Well, as you know, sweetheart, a beautiful woman will drive a man crazy," he responded with a sexy smile. "It's like being under a spell. Apparently, not even the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid is immune to it."

They both laughed and Emily commented, "You know what, Aaron? We're probably witnessing a delayed teenage rebellion. That's why he's acting out. He'll snap out of it soon enough."

"I hope you're right, Emily. I hope it's just a phase and not..."

"Not what?"

"I don't know. I'm just getting a vibe from this girl, like she's no good for him. And then there's that detective?"

"What detective?"

Aaron told Emily about the Georgetown murder and the mysterious phone call from Detective Martinez. "It was almost as if she were asking for Reid's alibi on the night of the murder. That raised a lot of red flags."

"It is strange. What did Reid tell you?"

"Nothing, although he was very uncomfortable. He's definitely hiding something. I think I'll call that Detective tomorrow, see if I can get to the bottom of this," decided Hotch.

As they pulled into their driveway, all thoughts of Reid were forgotten. Hotch and Emily seldom discussed work in the insanely happy domestic setting they created over the past year. They bought a house together, with a tree swing in the back yard. And their home life revolved around Jack and Anita, their live-in housekeeper, who was very much part of the family. She greeted them every night with food on the table and the smell of home cooking in the air. She was the reason they had clean clothes and fresh towels. And she was the reason Jack was so happy, despite their frequently being away. So coming home was for Aaron and Emily like being transported to a different world. And worrying about Spencer Reid was not part of that world.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Dr. Spencer Reid was carefully driving South on I-95 in Alison's blue, convertible BMW. He usually avoided driving because it made him nervous. The statistics were staggering. He knew there was more of a chance of his getting killed or injured right now in an automobile accident than on a case chasing a serial killer. But he couldn't _not _drive. It was a good 16 hours to Naples. And, gentleman as he was, he wasn't going to let Alison drive the whole way, even though she said she didn't mind. So here he was on the open road, careful to never exceed the speed limit, and very nervous every time an eighteen-wheeler passed him on the left lane.

He was glad Alison was asleep in the passenger seat next to him. They had hardly slept last night. Pride rippled through him to know that he had made her this tired. Make-up sex was indeed everything people hailed it to be. Spencer smiled and then thought about the series of decisions that led them to make this last-minute trip.

"I'll do anything to make it right between us," she had repeated over and over again as they made love.

And he had had the presence of mind to respond, "Then turn yourself in."

He hadn't expected her to even consider it, much less say yes. But she did say yes, with only one request: to see her family one last time. So the next day they prepared for a road trip and left at about noon.

"What about your classes?" asked Spencer, already behind the wheel.

"Do you think it really matters at this point?"

"Of course, it matters. I saw how much your students care about you, and you for them."

"I guess I can call the Department Chair and tell him I'll be gone this week. And maybe when we come back I can say goodbye to my students." She turned her face to the window so Spencer couldn't see her tears.

"Alison, I know you're scared, but I really believe in our justice system. I know that the result will be better this way then if they catch you later. Sooner than you think, we'll be putting all this behind us and we can build a new life together."

"No, Spencer. You can't think like that, baby. Once you told me that you wanted a future with me. I should have told you right then and there. You have to move on."

"Alison, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I don't want you to wait for me. Find yourself a nice girl. Get a house and have babies. Make your world beautiful. So that the monsters you face won't trouble you so much."

"I want all of that with you."

"But you can't have it."

"Why not?"

"Spencer, I'm going away for a long time. Perhaps I won't ever get out."

"What? No, Alison," Spencer laughed at her exaggeration. Apparently she was more scared than she let on. "You could probably plea out, maybe even avoid jail time altogether. Come here." He put his arm around her and promised, "We'll get you the best defense attorney on the planet."

She smiled and just before she put her head on his shoulder she looked into his eyes. There was something dark in her glance. Something that kept troubling him long after she fell asleep. Perhaps there was more to her involvement in the murder of Professor Farley than she cared to admit. He inhaled deeply and sighed, knowing that the thought had taken root in his brain. It would nag him relentlessly until he did something about it.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

At about 8:00 P.M. they drove the little BMW into South of the Border, where they were welcomed by bright lights and a huge Mexican sombrero.

"What a fantastic place!" commented Reid and he opened the window to take in the night-life around him.

"Do not be misled," warned Alison. "It's a tourist trap! So guard your wallet."

"Really?" responded Reid.

"The only stuff worth buying here are the fireworks. My nephew loves them. There's a huge store over there. It's like a whole block of fireworks!"

"Wait, you buy fireworks here in South Carolina and transport them over the Florida state line?"

"All the time. In the trunk of my car. Don't tell the FBI!"

"Alison, that's not funny. That could land you in jail. According to the Florida Code, Law Number…"

"Oh, no, you don't!" laughed Alison. "Dr. Spencer Reid, I'm going to tell you what my sister-in-law used to tell me. This is my whole secret to developing social skills, so listen carefully. Are you ready? Nobody likes a know-it-all!"

"Oh, so you're the one that illegally transports explosives, and you mock _me_?" Spencer was surprised that he was laughing. She had basically just called him a social retard, and he was laughing.

She giggled and asked, "Are you hungry? I know this great Mexican restaurant."

They had a hot, delicious meal with Margaritas and flan for dessert. Then they made their way to the front desk of the Quality Inn for the night. Spencer wasn't convinced that the place was clean, despite the assurances of the front desk clerk. So Alison resorted to whispering in his ear that she was going to do all kinds of delightful things to him as soon as they reached their room. That, of course, sealed the deal, and Spencer hurriedly completed the check-in.

They were on their way to the room when Alison remembered the suitcase in her trunk. "Could you get it for me?" she urged. "It has some important artifacts I'd like to safely return to my brother and it would break my heart if they were stolen."

"Sure, no problem," said Reid. He walked to the car and she went ahead to the room.

As soon as he was outdoors he took out his phone and hit the speed dial. Earlier in the day he had made two decisions. First he had to verify Alison's story about the night of the murder. And second he had to investigate the Farley case further.

The line rang and she finally picked it up. "Hey, Penelope it's me. I need a favor. Two favors, actually."


	25. Chapter 25

_**Author's note: Okay, m. This is for you, and all my readers. Enjoy.**_

Chapter 25

It took another ten hours to drive through South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. Alison laughed at Spencer because he drove like Grandma, and he promised her that, just for saying so, he was going to tickle her to death at the next rest stop. "Don't you dare!" she exclaimed, anticipating that delicious moment when tickling would inevitably turn into something else.

Altogether it was a very nice ride. Interstate 95 is not the most scenic of routes, but they found each other's company incredibly stimulating. They had a lot in common. And he could barely keep up with her wit. So for the first time since Maeve, Spencer felt like there was another human being on Planet Earth who could challenge him intellectually, and who could actually understand him. Like just at that moment: she was laughing at one of his jokes. She was laughing because she understood it and found its humor. And with the sun accentuating her highlights, Spencer thought she was a vision of beauty.

The intensity of his gaze made her self-conscious and she nervously asked, "Spencer?"

And he said, "I could love you for the rest of my life."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes, which were troubled once again. He finally looked away, out his window. That's right. They could talk about anything in the here and now. But the future was out of the question, although it was what mattered most.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

It was high noon when they crossed into Collier County, and Alison called her brother to announce that they were almost home. It was evident from the conversation that they were close and that Alison couldn't wait to see him. Radiant with excitement, she was gushing about her beautiful nephew and nieces.

The sun was starting to set when they pulled into the gravel driveway, and the family was outside waiting for them. A wave of apprehension suddenly came over Reid. The property was easily a million-dollar estate. What would the family think of him? What could he possibly offer Alison that her brother wouldn't laugh at? But even with the butterflies in his stomach, Reid watched with wonderment at the loving picture they made. The natural affection among them warmed his heart. And the children were completely in love with their Aunt Alison.

"Hello, I'm Gregor Montgomery. You must be Dr. Spencer Reid. Welcome to our home." He was a tall, rubicund man in his late forties with a strong handshake and a reassuring voice. Reid immediately felt drawn to his warm smile and honest eyes.

"Thank you for having me, Sir. You have a beautiful family and a beautiful home." Reid started to feel comfortable.

"Please allow me to present my wife." Gregor was the very picture of southern hospitality, so polite and welcoming. He led Reid toward the group and said, "This is Elaine." Elaine was a pretty blonde who reminded Reid of J.J. in ten years.

Gregor continued the introductions, "This big guy right here is Reagan. And those two little ladies are Scarlet and Hollie."

"Twins!" said Reid delighted with the beautiful children.

"More like double-trouble!" laughed Elaine. "Please, come in, Spencer. May I call you Spencer?"

"Of course," he assured.

"You two must be hungry. We waited for you to have dinner together."

Gregor helped Reid with the luggage and they filed inside.

"Auntie Ali, where are my fire crackers," asked the four-year-old Reagan.

"Well," said a teasing Alison, "That mean, old FBI agent wouldn't let me transport explosives across the Florida border."

Reid grabbed Alison's hand and whispered playfully, "I can't believe you just said that, babe!"

"Why, mister? Why couldn't Ali bring my fire crackers?" asked Reagan.

"Well, because this time you won't need them, buddy. We're going to build a rocket together, if it's okay with your parents. And that's way cooler than fireworks."

The boy shouted with joy and Alison said, "Very well handled, Dr. Reid."

"I like you already, Spencer," said Gregor, pleased with the couple's chemistry. "Ali needs someone to keep her out of trouble." And Spencer couldn't help but to think, _Sir, you have no idea._


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Dinner was a formal affair with bone white china in the dining hall. But Spencer felt right at home with the family. They were eager to laugh and be delighted by their Ali, who was so charming that a couple of times Spencer forgot his manners and gazed at her too longingly. Gregor did not miss the look of desire in the young man's eyes.

"So, Spencer, tell us. How did you meet our Ali?" encouraged Elaine.

"I was offering an FBI recruitment lecture at Georgetown, and she came right up to me afterwards. Of course, I had no idea what hit me. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen."

"Oh, that is so sweet!" said Elaine delighted.

"Is that what you were thinking?" laughed Alison. "I thought you were a bit distracted. I asked you how long you had been in the BAU and you said _yes._"

They laughed and Reid continued, "What can I say? I was besotted."

"So you work for the BAU. Could you tell us a bit about your job?"

"I'd rather not," said Reid light-heartedly. "Because we're eating. Nothing will ruin an appetite faster than talking about a serial killer."

Alison tenderly reached for his hand and laced her fingers through his.

"That bad, huh?" asked Gregor.

"But the science behind behavioral analysis is really fascinating," said Spencer, finding safe ground. He talked about the team and their methods.

"It sounds dangerous," said Elaine.

"It can be, but we take care of each other." Reid mentioned that he trusted every team member with his life.

An awkward silence followed. Reid's line of work was a bit too heavy for dinner conversation, so he asked, "What about you? Can you tell me about your work in Peru?"

It was the right question. The three Montgomery Ph.D.s were all too willing to share some of their experiences with the indigenous peoples, especially with the Yuru.

After dinner Elaine and Alison took care of the dishes and the children, while Gregor took Reid to the deck to see the last of the sunset.

"What do you think of this view?" asked Gregor contentedly.

It was breathtaking. Between the house and the white sand beach there was a strip of coastal dunes with long thin grasses that feathered in the breeze. The last of the brilliant light was melting into the blue horizon and the sky was aglow with sunset hues: every tone of pink, purple, and orange. Reid filled his lungs with the strong salty air. The seagulls' cry suddenly made him feel lonely.

"I'm speechless," he managed to say. It had to be the most beautiful place on Earth.

Gregor's expression grew serious and his eyes searched the horizon. Finally, he said, "Look, Spencer, I may not be a behavioral analyst, but I can sense that something is wrong."

Of course he could. Reid knew it would be impossible to hide from the family the fact that something was wrong. Gregor was practically her father; he had a right to know. But Alison was adamant about not telling him. So Reid's hands were tied. He listened in silence as Gregor continued.

"The semester just started and she's down here. She would never leave her students. Never. And then there's you. I've never seen a man more in love. But the way you look at her. There's sorrow there, too… Is she sick, Spencer? Is my Ali going to die?"

"What?" Reid had not considered the possibility of Gregor's thoughts going there. "No, Sir, she's not sick. I mean, not that I know of."

"So, it's something else... And you won't say."

"I can't, Gregor. It's not my secret to share. You have to ask her."

"Is she going to be alright?"

"I honestly don't know, Sir. But I'm working on it. I promise you this, upon my word, I'm going to do everything in my power to help her."

"I'd rather it were me. I'd rather be the one making sure she's okay."

Reid nodded in understanding. And they watched the sunset in a brooding silence until the women and children joined them.

"The guest house is ready for you, Spencer," said Elaine. "It's all yours, whenever you want to freshen up."

"All mine?" asked Reid glancing at Alison. "By myself?"

Gregor was immensely amused when he replied, "That's right, young man. In this house we live the same way we vote: conservative. Is that clear?"

"Crystal clear, Sir."

But Alison winked at Spencer and said, "Quit torturing my man, big brother!"

"Who said anything about torture?" chided Elaine in a strict tone. "You, young lady, will be staying in the guest room upstairs. Come on, let's get you settled."

Reid smiled as Alison left protesting. She was arguing something about this being the year 2015, when even conservatives really weren't all that _conservative_.

"I guess I'll excuse myself, too. Thank you for everything, Sir. And… you have a few days. I'm sure she'll open up to you. I hope that she does."

"So do I, Spencer. You have a good evening now," said Gregor politely. He watched the young man find his way to the guest house. A few minutes later he was joined by his wife and they laughed.

"Those two are going to be impossible to chaperone!" she warned. "Did you see how they look at each other?"

"Completely in love."

"What do we do if he sneaks into the house tonight?"

"No, Spencer wouldn't do that," he assured her and she felt relieved. But then he added, "It's Ali who'll break into the guest house and jump his bones!"

They burst in laughter and Elaine said, "Well, as long as it's not in the house where the children are."

"Well, well, Mrs. Montgomery, I never knew you condoned sex before marriage," he teased. "If I remember correctly, I had to wait an awful long time."

"Yes, darling, but it was worth the wait, was it not?"

"Most assuredly." And he kissed her ever so tenderly on the lips.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Confined to the guest house bungalow, Spencer felt like a prisoner. He was aching for Alison. With astonishment he realized that this agony was more acute than the withdrawal symptoms he faced several years ago, after Tobias Hankle. In an attempt to distract himself, he opened the slider and stepped onto the patio. The deck was white washed with pale moonlight and Spencer could hear the surf bubbling on the shore, gentle wave after wave. But the night's beauty only intensified his need for Alison and he sighed. What could he do? Throw pebbles at her bedroom window until she came out? Spencer laughed when he realized that he was desperate enough to actually do it. He retreated indoors and took a cold shower instead.

It was going to be a long, lonely night. Fortunately, the small library in the foyer looked promising. Spencer perused the volumes and immediately found a treasure: Dr. Gregor Montgomery's published studies on the indigenous peoples of Peru.

Spencer read book after book of the collection, focusing on the Yuru people. He felt like he was transported to an impossible world. No wonder the Montgomery family was so fascinated by that culture! They were a matriarchal society ruled by what they called _Alaya_, which Gregor translated as "the natural rights of humans."

Spencer remembered Alison's lecture on John Locke and made the connection. _Alaya_ dictated every human relationship among the Yuru. And as a result, they did not have crime or social problems. _Imagine that, _thought Spencer, _utopia_. He recalled phrases from Alison's book. Now he understood why she struggled with Western society. He recalled that she disdained "court systems that allow individuals to go unpunished after committing hideous crimes against women."

A disturbing premonition took hold of Spencer as a hypothesis started to assemble in his brain. What if Alison was the real perpetrator of the Farley murder? What if she used Darcy to accomplish her own design? Spencer continued reading in a frenzied state trying to shove the thought aside. But it was useless. Every gram of grey matter was screaming against the barrier Spencer was trying to erect, screaming to allow his usual scientific approach to take its course.

Dr. Reid closed his eyes and gave the unpleasant thoughts his consent, and they flowed like waters from a broken dam. She was raised among the Yuru and had assimilated their culture. She thrived well in their society. She said it herself, her years with them had been the happiest of her life. But what happened when she was uprooted from that community? When she faced a society riddled with crime? And yet, she did not choose to distance herself from crime. She ran a hotline for rape victims. How did she deal with the intimate knowledge of the horrible things that were done to those women? When she dwelled upon the deficiencies of our court system? Had she not called justice _blind_? Spencer feared that her mind was warped. But was that enough to produce murderous thoughts and actions?

Spencer opened his eyes with renewed hope. No, it was not enough to turn her into a murderer. _Always go back to the beginning._ Wasn't that Jason Gideon's mantra? That childhood was the key? _Most killers are made in childhood._ Spencer could hear the wise, steady voice of his former mentor. _Always go back to the beginning._

And Spencer was at the beginning. Alison grew up right here in this house. Everything he had seen so far led him to believe that Alison's first eight years of life were happy. It was evident from her enthusiasm at returning, from her loving interaction with the family, from her fondness for the place. Those eight years had formed her personality and her values. So, no. Alison was not a killer. Relief washed through him as the troubling thoughts subsided. There was a gentle rapping at the door. And his heart sang when he opened it to see Alison's angelic face.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Morgan returned early from his lunch break to find a wiry little woman in the bullpen. She was hot, for a Wednesday, but looked tough as nails. Morgan approached her, clearing his throat, and asked, "You lost, mama?" The icy look she returned made him freeze over. "Or not."

"It's _Detective_ Martinez, and I'm waiting for Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Do you have an appointment?" he asked curious.

"I was hoping to catch him here."

"Well, you're going to be waiting for a long time. He's out for the week."

"On vacation?"

"Something like that, but can _I_ help you."

"I seriously doubt it. I'm going to need to see S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner."

"Just a minute." Morgan made his way upstairs feeling like her messenger boy. "Excuse me, Hotch? Sorry for interrupting, but a Detective Martinez requested to see you."

Hotch looked up from his computer screen. "She's here, right now?"

"Oh, so you know her. She's asking about Reid."

Hotch sighed and said, "Please send her up." Hotch was nervous, although he had no idea why. He saved the document he had been working on all morning and closed his laptop.

Detective Martinez walked into the office. The black suit, she expected, but not the handsome face. "S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner? Detective Sharon Martinez." She threw in her first name, just in case he was interested.

"How can I help you?"

Straight to business. Okay. "I need to speak with Dr. Spencer Reid. I understand he's on vacation this week?"

"What's this about?" barked Hotch taking control. This was his agent, his office. If anyone was going to do the asking, it was him.

She was unfazed. Taking a good look into his hard eyes, she realized Reid was his pet. Better to tell him the whole story, and see where it led. "Dr. Reid's girlfriend is wanted for questioning, but we can't get in touch with her or with Spencer."

"Is she a suspect?" Hotch noticed that the detective was on first-name terms with Reid.

"No, we have a suspect, but we don't have probable cause to arrest her. But we believe Dr. Alison Montgomery can provide relevant information."

"How so?"

"Hospital records show that our suspect was raped a couple weeks ago, and Dr. Montgomery was the one who took her to the hospital." She noticed his interest and added, "This is the second time her name has come up in our investigation." And she told Hotch about the witness and Alison's alibi.

Hotch asked, "And did Dr. Reid confirm her alibi?"

"No, not really. I mean, I thought that he had, but now I realize that he didn't actually say the words."

"Well, either he did or he didn't, Detective."

Piqued she responded, "Look, I'd really appreciate some help here. Spencer isn't answering my calls and his next-door-neighbor said he was away on some kind of road trip. I'm guessing he and Montgomery are together. Maybe you could get in touch with him and tell him I really need to speak to him. Please, if it isn't too much trouble. I know he respects you."

"Of course," he responded.

"Thank you. I'll see myself out." And she walked out with her confident stride.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

This was the first time he watched her fall asleep, and Spencer treasured the intimacy of the simple act. He knew the precise moment when she surrendered to the dreamscape. Her breath evened out and deepened as her heartbeat slowed. The hand possessively placed on his chest relaxed and she felt limp against his shoulder. He loved that she lay there naked and vulnerable, trusting him completely. When he was sure she wouldn't wake up, he carefully extracted his entwined body from hers and got out of bed to check his phone. His text message alert had beeped earlier, but he and Alison were too busy for him to care.

It was from Penelope. _Hey my Junior G-man: _(He smiled.) _The requested phone records and autopsy report. Oh, and I scheduled a Psych eval for you. You can thank me on Tuesday at 9:45 A.M. _

Spencer covered Alison with a warm, cozy blanket and closed the bedroom door. He quickly read the forensic materials on a barstool at the kitchen counter. The autopsy report was first.

Time of death: 2:15 A.M.

Cause of death: Blunt force trauma to the base of the skull.

Laceration consistent with a sharp object measuring approximately five millimeters.

_Five millimeters? _ thought Spencer. _Small murder weapon. _There was something else in the report. Traces of an unknown narcotic were found in the victim's body.

"What do you mean _unknown_?" said Reid out loud. But known or not, it was a disturbing finding. It meant that the murder was premeditated. The professor was drugged before he was murdered.

Reid felt sick when he continued to the phone records. What if Alison lied to him? What if Darcy didn't call her at 3:00 A.M.? What would that mean? He gasped in relief when he saw it right there in black and white: incoming call to Alison's mobile phone at 2:55 A.M. from a Georgetown payphone. But when he scrolled further down he saw an outgoing call at 1:00 A.M. to the same number.


	31. Chapter 31

_**Author's Note: Okay, so I had a major case of writer's block. Sorry for taking longer than usual with this chapter. Hopefully, it will be smooth sailing from now until the end. Please take a moment to send me a review!**_

Chapter 31

After a long night of wandering on the beach, daybreak found Spencer among the fishermen at the Naples Pier. He witnessed firsthand the truth to the saying that the darkest part of night is just before sunrise. A moment ago it was pitch black beyond the boardwalk lamps. The only sounds were the casting and reeling of fishing poles and waves breaking around the wooden posts. But then the first rays of light peeked over the horizon, and just like that, the dark night was forgotten. The fishermen's mood changed. They now seemed more open to conversation, offering each other coffee and cigarettes.

"I guess he ain't coming today, Spencer. Must be shy around tourists!" lamented old Al. As soon as old Al learned that the barefoot wanderer was from out of town, he told him all about the legendary hammerhead shark that appeared every morning at first light.

"I should be heading back," said Spencer. "My hosts will wonder where I am."

"Where are you stayin'? If you don't mind my asking."

"A few miles up the beach."

"At the old Montgomery, Senior, place?"

"Yeah, did you know him?"

"I knew him," he replied curtly.

Spencer's curiosity spiked at his bitter tone, and he waited for Al to say more. But the old fisherman's lips were drawn in a thin line.

"How did you know him?"

"Worked for the man for 30 years."

"Oh," said Spencer. He desperately wanted to get him talking so he added, "I never met him. I'm dating his daughter, sort of." He felt foolish speaking of his status with Alison, especially now that he was going straight to the house to break up with her.

"Little Alison," smiled Al, obviously fond of the child he once knew. "How is she?"

"She's well," replied Spencer, as opposed to _She's a murderer._

"She must be, what, 20 years old now?"

"Twenty-two," he said.

"Unfortunate that business with her parents," he finally said.

"They died in a boating accident." It was more of a question than a statement.

"That's what the newspaper said," replied Al.

"But you don't think that's what really happened?"

"Who cares what an old man thinks!" laughed Al. The conversation was getting too serious for an old man who wanted to spend his final days fishing and sailing. "Come on, Spencer. I'll give you a ride over there. It's on my way to the docks."

"Thanks, I really appreciate that," said Spencer happy to get a few more moments with him. They loaded the fishing gear and cooler into the back of Al's truck and Spencer got into the passenger seat. He knew it would be a brief ride, so he had to act quickly to get the information he needed.

"So what kind of boss was my would-be father-in-law?"

"He was a bastard, Spencer, and you're lucky he's dead." Spencer was visibly shocked, so Al added, "And I don't feel a bit of remorse for saying so."

"Okay. What about his wife?"

"Now that was a nice lady. And pretty, too. Don't ask me how she put up with that sombitch."

"Why was he so terrible?"

Al became agitated as he responded, "After 30 years of slaving for the man at his construction company, he goes and sells it to the highest bidder. And every one of us got sacked, with zero benefits. He and his partners got some fat bonuses, but we got zilch. Nothing! You understand?"

"That's awful." Reid felt the need to respond. But he didn't press the issue and Al calmed down. Finally he said, "You seem to have done okay for yourself."

"No thanks to old Montgomery." And he told Spencer about his savvy wife who, for 30 years, secretly set aside some money for an emergency. When Al was fired, they lived off that stash for six months until he found a good job. "Well, here we are, Spencer."

They were just outside the estate gates. Spencer got down and said," Thanks a lot, Al. It was a pleasure."

"Anytime. You know where to find me everyday at daybreak." And with a friendly honk of the horn, he was off. Spencer took a deep breath and headed for the guest house.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Spencer walked into the guest house, heart pounding in his chest. It was time to face Alison, no matter what happened. The house was warm and smelled like breakfast and coffee. She was waiting for him seated at the kitchen counter with a mug in one hand and his cell phone in the other. Her distressed state was evident in her red, swollen eyes.

"You read my messages," he observed.

She noticed that he was nervous and she wanted to ease his tension. With a sad smile she teased, "You know, this would be easier to read if you had an email account." And, ever patient, she waited for him to start the difficult conversation that was coming.

Spencer felt guilty for making her cry. Then he felt angry at himself for feeling guilty. He announced, "I'm leaving."

She quietly followed him into the bedroom and watched him angrily gather his meager belongings. Finally, she broke the silence. "So this is how you deal with things? You just leave? Like your father?"

"Don't you dare!" he yelled. When she blanched, he controlled his temper. Didn't she know that he would never hurt her? More subdued, he continued, "I am nothing like my father! He was a coward. He couldn't handle my mother's disease. This is nothing like that!"

"Oh, but it is, Spencer. You're leaving because you can't handle the truth."

"And what is the truth, Alison? Because all you've done is lie to me!"

"I didn't lie to you last night, when I told you that I love you. When _I showed you_ how much I love you. That wasn't a lie. Were you lying when you said it back?"

"I didn't know I was in bed with a murderer."

"I'm not a murderer," she said firmly. He could almost believe her. God, he wanted to believe her!

"Then what are you?"

"I'm the woman you love." She smiled sadly.

"I need answers, Alison," he pleaded.

"I can't give them to you, Spencer. You have to figure this one out on your own."

"Then this isn't love," he concluded in frustration.

"Of course, it's love."

"How can you say that?"

She spoke with passion, tentatively at first, but with growing conviction as he listened. "Because we were bonded by something greater than us, even before our physical union. A bond so strong that you couldn't give me up to the detective. So strong that I risked everything when I gave your name as an alibi. That was back then. And now it's so much stronger! I'm going to prison for you, Spencer, because you believe it's the right thing to do!" He opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. So she continued, "We're soul mates, and our love is a gift from _El espiritu_."

"You're still going through with it? You're giving yourself up?"

"Of course, I am."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

"You'll probably do some time because of that phone call, even if you are innocent."

"I expected that much. But I remember, not too long ago, you told me that you would get me the best lawyer, and …" she closed her eyes to hold back the stinging tears, "that you would be with me through it all."

Spencer sighed and said, "You're asking me to stay by your side. When I don't even know if you're guilty?"

"No. I'm asking you to love me, whether you think I'm guilty or not. And to be patient. The answers will come."

It was the most absurd thing he had ever heard, but he wanted to say yes with every fiber of his being. She saw the struggle in his eyes and cautiously approached him. Her hands slid onto his chest. He loved it when she did that. It was possessive and dominating, like she was claiming what was hers. Their lips met, immediately finding a hungry rhythm.

Maybe she was right. He had felt an almost supernatural connection with her the first time he met her. Could their love be a gift from the Great Spirit? Spencer was lost in thought as he covered her neck with open-mouthed kisses. But how could it be a divine gift if she was going to be taken away from him so soon?

His hands found her breasts and Alison let out a sigh in her growing urgency. "Spencer!" she moaned softly.

And his heart raced at the sound. He longed to hear her other sounds, the ones that drove him over the edge. He brought his mouth back to hers and they devoured each other. Well, maybe she didn't have to go to prison. He was the only one who knew about the mysterious phone call. But then reason screamed out to him. _You're not thinking straight!_

"Alison!" He broke the embrace and brought his hands to her shoulders. Gently, but firmly, he pushed her away. The hurt expression in her eyes nearly made him take her into his arms again. But he stood his ground. "I need time… and space. Please give me that much."

She nodded in defeat as tears pooled in her impossibly beautiful eyes. "Okay, Spencer."

She slowly walked out, and it took all of his will power to just let her go.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

After a meal, a shower, and a few hours of sleep, Spencer discovered that he could actually form coherent thoughts again. Although he still didn't know what he was going to do with Alison, one thing was for sure: He was _not_ going to wait until the trial to learn the truth about the murder of William Farley. There was no way on earth he was going to sit there and allow the prosecution to paint horrible pictures in his head about Alison. If she wasn't talking, then he was going to figure it out on his own.

He just needed to treat this case like any other work file. He needed to gather the evidence and take a hard, cold look at it, no matter where it led. But for the first time in his career he questioned whether or not he could actually do it. Because in his whole life he had never wanted anything more than Alison.

Searching for Gregor at the house, Spencer found the Montgomery women and children in the pool. His breath hitched when he saw Alison in her bikini. She approached him with a shy smile, dripping wet from head to toe. The brilliant sunlight glistened on her beautiful skin.

"Hi," she greeted, tentatively searching his eyes. "You rested."

"Yeah," said Spencer, nervously running his hand through his hair. He refused to look at anything but her eyes. _Focus, Spence._

"That's good," she said, but noticed that the silence between them was heavy. Obviously, he had not yet decided.

"Hey, Uncle Spencer, when are we gonna build the rocket?" yelled little Reagan from across the pool, and Elaine quickly told him to hush.

Reid's eyes opened wide and he smiled. _Uncle Spencer, huh. _ He loved the sound of that. He loved _the idea_ of that. To be these kids' uncle. To be able to call Gregor his brother... My, God! That's what was at his fingertips: a place within this loving family. Stray images of a Fourth of July weekend crossed his mind. Gregor and Elaine laughing and talking, spatula in hand as they turned over the hotdogs and hamburgers on the grill. Little Reagan and the twins delighted by the fireworks. Alison in his arms, whispering in his ear that she was dying for the party to end so that he and she could go make fireworks of their own in the guest house. And that's what he would lose if the Farley investigation went badly. What if he lost it all? He could not go back to his solitary existence. Spencer felt pain in his chest, something akin to heartbreak. And he looked away.

"Hey, I'm sorry about that." Alison brought her hand to his cheek and gently directed him to look into her eyes. "I'm really sorry about that. Yesterday he asked me if he could call you _Uncle Spencer,_ and I didn't think anything of it. Yesterday was yesterday."

Spencer swallowed down his pain and feelings of loss. "No, it's okay. I was just… I don't know, surprised."

"But you enjoyed it…" She sensed that he wanted to leave. Some raw emotion had stirred him and he was uncomfortable. So she said, "Look, I told my brother you needed a timeout. He's giving a lecture today and wouldn't mind the company. If you'd like to go…"

A lecture. A scholastic environment. That's exactly what he needed. "I'd love to," said Reid touched by her thoughtfulness. "Thank you."

"Sure. He's leaving in a few minutes."

"Oh, so I guess I should change into my dress shirt and tie."

"No, actually, you look great, Spencer."

"You think so?"

"Yeah." She used her fingers to comb his hair. "There you go."

"Okay, I'll get my bag."

"Okay."

And on his way to the guest house he had to remind himself exactly why he had requested space from her.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

They headed West on Alligator Alley towards Dade County. It was a two-hour drive from the Gulf to the Atlantic coast, traveling the entire width of South Florida.

"This your first fight?" asked Gregor with a smirk.

"Second, actually," responded Spencer bitterly. "Alison's full of surprises."

He chuckled, "That's Ali, alright! She's going to drive you crazy, Spencer. But I know everything will work out between you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I saw her tattoo. I know what it means. I'm guessing you have one too."

"Right over the heart," he said and smiled at the memory. The notion of branding each other forever: It was the most romantic moment he had ever heard of or read about. And he couldn't believe that it had happened to him, of all people.

"Figured that much." Gregor grew serious and continued, "You're an outsider, Spencer, so it doesn't mean as much to you. But to Ali, … she'd be willing to change her life for you."

"It means a great deal to me, too," said Spencer defensively. The last thing he wanted was for Gregor to question his intentions. "I love her, Gregor."

"I know you do," he responded warmly. "But would you be willing to leave everything behind for her? Because that's what the branding ritual means to the Yuru people." At the mention of the Yuru, Spencer told Gregor that he enjoyed reading his published studies.

"How long did you live among the Yuru?" asked Spencer, eager to change the subject.

"Three years, four months, eleven days. Until Ali was 13."

"That explains why she is so influenced by their culture."

"Ali immediately took to their customs and ways. It was almost fanatical, which worried me at first."

"Why?" asked Spencer.

"I don't know, I guess I was afraid she'd lose her American identity. But there was nothing I could do. She learned their languages quickly, started dressing like them, even accepted their religious practices." Gregor fell into a brooding silence.

"What is it?" asked Spencer.

"I guess I could have left earlier, but I was working. The Yuru migration route led me straight to my next dig. At summer's end, when the tribe was ready to move on, I let Ali continue with them on her own."

Spencer raised his eyebrows in surprise. "By herself?"

"Well, by that time she was one of them. Did Ali tell you about the initiation ritual?"

"No, not at all!"

"Well, every summer they initiate their twelve-year-olds with a special name-changing ceremony to symbolize passage into adulthood. They called Ali "Alma-en-Pena."

"What does that mean?"

"Tortured Soul."

"Alma-en-Pena," repeated Spencer. _Tortured Soul. _That raised a red flag. He had so many questions he hardly knew where to begin. "So she became a Yuru after that? What does that mean?"

"It means that she's one of them. As if she were born into them."

"And how long was she with them on her own?"

"A whole migration, one year. I saw her the following summer." He smiled at the memory and continued, "She had grown and she was beautiful! But what impressed me most was that she was so happy!"

"She wasn't happy before?"

"She always missed Mother. So I guess she was sad, yeah." Spencer noted that he didn't say that she missed her father. Gregor continued, "But her year alone with the Yuru brought her back to life. They are an amazing society, Spencer. If you spent any amount of time with them, you would never want to come back."

"So why did you leave?"

"Ah, because of the branding ritual," laughed Gregor. "A Yuru boy wanted to brand Ali, but she didn't feel the same way about him. Rather than risking offending him and his family, she decided to stay behind with Elaine and me."

There was so much more that Spencer wanted to know, but they were getting near to the University of Miami and Gregor needed to listen to his lecture podcast to refresh his memory.

"What's your lecture about?" asked Spencer.

"My next book: Yuru rituals. It's in the press and will be released early next year."

Spencer warmly congratulated him and mentioned that he felt privileged to have been invited to the lecture. And in the few minutes of silence that followed, Spencer looked at the big city without actually seeing it. He was lost in thought, piecing together everything he just learned about Alison.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Spencer rushed out of the lecture hall to the campus shuttle bus stop. Gregor's lecture would be over in 33 minutes, so he had to hurry.

"Where to?" asked the driver.

"Forensics building, please," said Spencer. He didn't actually have a plan. Without his FBI credentials it would be hard to get what he needed. He would have to think of something.

"Thanks," said Spencer as he hopped off.

"Have a good evening," said the driver.

Spencer walked into the building and was surprised at how full it was, given that it was after dark. He walked down the hallway with labs left and right. He stood in front of the molecular biology lab and placed a trembling hand on the door. _Here we go._

There were three pairs of students scattered around the lab. If anyone glanced at Spencer, they didn't think he was out of place. Spencer made his way to the cabinets where the chemicals were stored. Locked, as expected. He looked at his watch and nervously realized he had twenty minutes to get back.

Desperate, he said, "Hey, can anybody help me out? I left my keys and I have a deadline in twenty minutes."

A student approached and said, "Cutting it close, huh? Don't forget to fill out the log."

Spencer signed his name and wrote "luminol" in the assigned space. He was given the dispenser, and he practically ran out the door.

Gregor was speaking with the last of the students that came up to him after the lecture. Spencer made his way down the amphitheater and interrupted, "I'll take this to the car for you."

"Sure, thanks, Spencer," he answered, and continued his conversation.

Reid took the heavy suitcase. The one Alison had brought from D.C. It contained the artifacts she wanted to return to Gregor, the artifacts he just used in his lecture on the Yuru rituals. Spencer burst into the first empty classroom and practically threw the suitcase on a table. Drops of sweat fell off his brow as he opened it and sifted through the artifacts to find _justiciera_. He held the axe in his hand and looked at the blade. Five millimeters of cold steel.

He was paralyzed. _Move, Spencer. _But his feet would not listen. A noise in the hall made him start and he burst into action. He turned off the lights and reached into his pocket. He sprayed an even layer of luminol on the blade and waited. "Oh, please, God," he pleaded aloud as he waited. "This can't be happening."

But he did not have to wait long. A blue glow appeared where trace amounts of blood still remained on the blade. This was definitely the weapon used to murder William Farley.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

"Are you alright, Spencer?" asked Gregor worried. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed east. "You don't look so good."

"No, I think I got sick or something. But I'll be okay."

"Are you sure? Do you need anything, like at a pharmacy?"

"No, no, let's just get back. More than anything I need to sleep."

The ride back was dark and silent. Spencer pretended to sleep as he replayed the lecture. The execution ritual with _justiciera_.

"We're lucky to even know about this ritual," Gregor had said as he showed the axe to the audience. "I only know of its existence through my sister who witnessed one. On that occasion the man who received the death penalty had sexually assaulted a woman. Now keep in mind that crime is practically non-existent among the Yuru, and crimes against women are unheard of in this matriarchal society. So it is extremely rare for a rapist to even exist among them."

"The procedure in itself is humanitarian in nature. The offender is given an anesthetic derived from an Amazonian root plant, so he feels no pain. Then the victim is given _justiciera_. If he or she can't go through with the execution then it is implied that the offense is not serious enough to deserve the death penalty. In the case my sister witnessed, the victim did go through with it. You will notice that _justiciera's_ design makes it easy to wield. One precise blow to the base of the skull is more than sufficient to get the job done."

Each time Spencer replayed those words, he saw the execution ritual performed on William Farley. Alison gave Darcy the anesthetic and _justiciera._ Darcy drugged the professor and killed him. Then Alison went to the crime scene to collect _justiciera_ and to tell Darcy how to clean up the forensic evidence.

What about the phone call before the murder? That must have been Alison asking Darcy if she was actually going to go through with it. Asking Darcy? Or convincing her? The tears pooling in Spencer's eyes started to roll freely down his cheeks. He knew the answer to that question. On the dreadful day of her rape, Darcy was twice a victim. First to the man who sexually assaulted her and then to the woman who convinced her to kill him.

"Spencer, are you crying?" asked Gregor. "Are those tears?"

Reid's thoughts grew ever darker as he realized that this could not have been Alison's first murder. There were no mistakes. The cover-up was perfectly executed. That could only mean that she had done this before. Spencer finally lost the last string of control and he cried openly. Gregor was beside himself with worry, but Spencer just could not stop. You see, the problem was that in the history of forbidden loves, this was the worst: an FBI supervisory special agent of the BAU had fallen in love with what he hunted for a living.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

There were very few things in this life that Penelope Garcia held sacred, and sleep was one of them. So when the phone woke her up and it wasn't Derek, Hotch, or her mother – in that order of importance– she was very ticked off.

"Spencer, it's after midnight." She switched on her bedside table lamp and looked at her alarm clock. "Actually, it's more like 10 o'clock. But I was tired! Reid I was sleeping!"

She sat up on the edge of her bed. "You want me to do what? Why? Aren't you supposed to be on vacation?"

His urgent plea and the desperation in his voice made her get up and turn on her computer, "Okay, okay, I'm on it. Just give my baby a moment to start up."

She rubbed her eyes and logged into the FBI database. "I'm in. What are we looking for?"

The sound of clicking keys filled the room, followed by a moment of silence. "Okay, I have four hits. One in Virginia, one in Maryland, one in Pennsylvania, and one in Ohio. All four victims were drugged with an unknown substance before they were killed by a blow to the back of the head. Oh, my, Spencer, did you run into a serial killer down there?" It made her sad that death and darkness seemed to follow the team wherever they went.

Her long nails glided over the keys once again. "Yes, two of the victims had a record for sexual assault."

More clicking, "Hit me with the phone number. Okay, here we go. Yes, on the night of each murder there was an outgoing and then an incoming call from the same number. Whose phone is this Reid? Wait! Isn't that your girlfriend?"

Penelope was confused. "What do you mean _I don't want to know_? Of course, I want to know."

She was surprised when he hung up. "You're welcome!" she yelled. But she had no time to dwell on her anger because her phone rang again, and this time it was Morgan.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Gregor barged into Alison's bedroom to tell her that Spencer had practically had a nervous breakdown in the car.

"What happened?" she asked removing her ear buds and setting her tablet aside.

"I don't know. He was fine before the lecture. And then on the way back he felt sick. Then he just started… crying!"

"What? Crying?"

"Yes. I think you should go to him!"

"Of course," she said, quickly putting on her slippers.

"Wait," said Gregor. He found her robe and helped her into it. "There's no way I'm letting you go see a man at this hour looking like that!"

"Seriously?" asked Alison. And as if to prove his point Gregor double-knotted the robe.

"What do you think this is about, Ali?" Alison was touched by Gregor's concern for her boyfriend.

"I'm not sure."

But it couldn't be good. Spencer was already on edge before the lecture. What could have happened? And then she felt cold. "Gregor, which lecture did you give?"

"The new one, on the Yuru rituals."

And then she understood. Spencer had learned about _justiciera_ and he had put the pieces together. Her eyes filled with tears. So now he knew.

"Ali?"

"I'm going, I'm going."

Alison was just about to knock on the guesthouse door when she heard Spencer inside. He was on the phone and she was willing to bet it was with the BAU's technical analyst. She couldn't make out the conversation but decided to wait until he was finished.

Standing there all alone and in the dark, apprehension washed through her. He was the love of her life. What if he couldn't forgive her? Or even worse, what if he couldn't understand her? Well, she would just have to make him understand. She would show him the pictures: The pictures of the bruised and savagely beaten rape victims. Surely he would see the benefits of the execution ritual. Instead of testifying in court, and having to relive the rape in front of a jury who would probably judge them, these women regained their dignity and honor by putting to death the very monsters who haunted them. And thanks to _justiciera_, there was no chance for these criminals to escape justice, to freely walk the streets again in search of new victims. Even if Spencer couldn't accept it, couldn't he understand it?

Alison wasn't sure. Just this morning he had called her a murderer, which she most certainly was _not_. Their worlds were too different. She called it justice, and he called it murder. She knew she was better off going home to the Yuru.

If she left tonight, she could wait for them in their summer lodgings. They would arrive by late November. Oh, the Falls of Madre Reina! The ice cold waters that made her feel so alive. The sounds of the Amazonian jungle that lulled her to sleep. Her loved ones who helped her to accept Mother's death. Yes, a much better life awaited her there.

But while there was even a sliver of hope that Spencer could love her back –that he could work through this with her– she was bound to stay. His decision would determine her fate. Twenty to life for William Farley; death row if he made the connection to the others. She was literally at his mercy. And to her surprise, she was okay with that. Because she was serious when she told him that she couldn't live without him. Not anymore.

Alison waited for what seemed like an eternity. A chilly breeze gave her goosebumps. Finally, there was silence inside the bungalow. She undid the knot on her robe, knowing that her breasts looked amazing in that negligée. She held her breath, and knocked on the door.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

"Wheels up in twenty minutes," Hotch had said, and Dr. Spencer Reid didn't want to be late. It was his first case back and he wanted to do everything right. But he made the stop anyway at the little mini-market next to the Metro station. He went there every morning, not for the daily sub special, or for the big cup of sixty-cent tea. Those were just things he purchased to have a reason to be there. No, it was for the bulletin board behind the cash register with pictures of the FBI's most wanted. That's where every morning Dr. Alison Montgomery, wanted for serial murder, looked back at him with her unfathomable eyes.

Reid loved to look at her picture outside in the real world. It was proof that she truly existed. That she was not a figment of his imagination. That the past year had not been a nightmarish delusion. But what he loved most was the rare opportunity to actually talk about her to the clerk running his bill or to the person in line behind him, to anyone really. Some days, when he was truly desperate, all he had to say was, "That sure is a beautiful girl there in that picture." And someone would comment. Those little moments in which he spoke of her to total strangers made him happy.

He wondered where she was and what she was doing right now, if she ever thought about him, if he'd ever see her again… He should have been satisfied with the way things worked out. Happy that he got a second chance to keep his old life and that she got a chance to flee the country to start a new life. Because quite frankly, it could have been a whole lot worse. As an accessory, he should be doing time. And she should be on death row. So he should be grateful that things worked out the way they did.

Reid remembered, as in the haze of a dream, his desperate phone call to Hotch when Detective Martinez arrested him. Right there in the interview room of the little holding cell, Spencer told Hotch _everything. _Hotch took immediate action. He made the Farley case federal, took over jurisdiction, and brought Spencer home as a prisoner under his custody. Detective Martinez had nearly blown an aneurism. She swore that this wasn't over, that she would chase Spencer like a dog for the rest of his life until he gave Alison up.

That had been a tough time, and Reid thought his despair would kill him. But the team had helped him through it. Even Morgan was there for him. Morgan, who couldn't understand how Reid could have deviated from his integrity. "But I saw that woman with my own eyes," he had concluded, "And I think I probably would have followed her to hell and back, too."

Reid remembered the hunt for Alison, but it was too late. She was long gone, and neither Spencer nor Gregor had any idea exactly where she was. He remembered Hotch's wrath and disappointment when he put Reid on probation. But then Hotch had fought just as hard to keep Reid on the team. In the end, it was thanks to Rossi that Reid wasn't imprisoned or fired. Nobody knew how, but Rossi had influenced Director Strauss to fight for Reid in the upper levels. So when Reid's probation time expired and there still hadn't been an oversight hearing, Hotch submitted Spencer's papers for active duty, and he was quickly cleared.

But above all else, Reid remembered his last moments with Alison. They barely left the guesthouse bungalow. In their grief they had cried and made love for two days. It surprised Spencer that of all the moments he could choose to relive, what he dwelled on most was their last kiss. When he felt their lips start to separate, he almost bit her to keep her mouth glued to his. She had to pry his fingers off her waist. She had to tear her body away from his and walk away without looking back. And he had to watch her leave with an overwhelming sense of loss. That had been over a year ago, and he still felt the pain of their separation. He wondered if it would ever go away.

Spencer made it on time to the Quantico air strip and boarded the jet. A sudden wave of trepidation almost made him double back. What if he lost his edge, his focus, his value on the team? What if they couldn't trust him? What if he made a mistake and someone got hurt or killed? Although, he was doing better emotionally, he knew he could not face failure right now.

"Spencer, why don't you sit with me?" invited Penelope. She didn't often accompany the team on a case, but when she did, her presence changed everything. She was like a breath of air when you're drowning. He smiled and sat down next to her, somehow knowing that it would all be okay.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

On the briefing in the jet, the dormant statistics inside Spencer's brain were finally activated. It felt good to give all that information a productive outlet. He felt like himself again.

"Our genius is back," Rossi smiled warmly. And Reid noted the admiration in the eyes of each of his teammates.

"Okay," said Hotch. "We're ready to deliver a preliminary profile. That should get the Daytona PD working. J.J., call Detective Rawlins."

"Right away," said J.J. dialing the number.

"Morgan, you and Reid head to the Speedway to check out the crime scene. Prentiss and Rossi can interview the victims' families. And Penelope, you come with me and J.J. to set up your equipment in the precinct. I want to know exactly how the Unsub is hacking into the Speedway intranet."

The team hit the ground running. Morgan and Spencer drove to the Daytona International Speedway in a customary black SUV.

"You know what we should do after this case, right?" asked Morgan.

"Don't start!" warned Spencer alarmed. As he learned the last time Morgan tried to cheer him up, Morgan's idea of a good time involved waking up next to a stranger (or two) with a terrible hang-over. "Whatever you're thinking, the answer is _no_!"

"Oh, come on, Reid. Live a little!" he laughed. "I think we should rent a fast car. A red convertible. And just drive around town all night."

Spencer silently looked through the passenger window.

"Seriously? You're not interested? Reid, we're at the Daytona 500, man! Doesn't that make you want to get some torque between your legs?"

Reid rolled his eyes, and as Morgan talked about the hot, willing chicks from all over the country that came to the races, Spencer calculated the drive time between Daytona and Naples.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Even in his sleep, Spencer knew he was dreaming. But he didn't want to wake up. He could feel the warm sun on his face and the sand and surf under his bare feet.

"Catch me, Spencer," she giggled and he chased her down the beach, surprised at how fast she was. He caught her and they tumbled into the cool water laughing. She was in his arms, her body tightly pressed against his. He felt the delicious tingle of anticipation coursing through his body. But before he could kiss her, she was taken from him.

"Alison!" he screamed. Although blind in the sudden darkness, Spencer knew exactly where he was. He wanted to wake up now. But he couldn't. The tight ropes burned his wrists. The hot, putrid air was suffocating. Spencer thrashed with all his might. "Tobias?" he called in anguish.

"Do I look like, Tobias?" echoed the haunting voice. "Time for you to confess your sins, boy."

"No!" cried Reid, the intensity of his fear shocking his senses.

"You sent her away, didn't you?" accused the voice as he discharged blow after blow. Spencer could feel the shooting pain everywhere. The rusty blood in his mouth tasted like death. "I'm gonna purge you of your sins, boy!"

He was still screaming when he heard the pounding on his door. "Wake up, Reid!" cried Hotch. Spencer sat up gasping for air. Realizing he was in his hotel room, he ran a shaky hand through his sweat soaked hair.

"Open the door," urged Emily. He rushed to the door and unlocked it.

"It was just a dream," he said as Emily came to his side. "Just a dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Hotch.

"No, it's okay. Just a nightmare." He finally looked at them, embarrassed for waking them up. "I'm so sorry…"

But Emily didn't let him finish. "Do you want to sleep on the couch in our suite?" she invited, and Hotch nodded in assent. Spencer was tempted. He missed staying at their house during the months Hotch was his jailer. They were like… parents to him. Emily, the loving, consenting mother. Hotch, the stern, disapproving father. Jack, his kid brother.

"No, of course not," he finally said feeling childish. "I'll be fine, really."

They looked at each other in doubt. "Okay," said Hotch. "We're right next door, if you change your mind."

"Thanks," said Spencer. He heard their room door close. A few minutes later there was silence. But there would be no more sleep for Spencer, even if his body desperately needed it. He was too shaken up to rest.

It had been a long time since Tobias Hankle, and his multiple personalities, had paid him a visit, and this one had been particularly brutal. There was no use in trying to bury the memories that resurfaced.

Spencer relived the kidnapping, the torture, the drugging. He remembered the paralyzing fear after the drugs wore off and the overwhelming need for his next fix. The drugs made everything worse. Being able to escape didn't allow his mind to deal with the immediate reality. He had to deal with that reality later, after rehabilitation. That's when he started to make peace with the whole thing. That is, until Tobias Hankle started visiting him in dreams.

"He's dead. He's dead. He's dead," repeated Spencer, aware that Tobias couldn't hurt him anymore. And he thought about that precise moment, when he pulled the trigger. He remembered the relief that washed through him despite the guilt. Then he wondered if that was the same relief felt by the rape victims that became murderers under Alison's tutelage. Spencer was sure they felt more secure, even in prison, by knowing that their tormenters could never hurt them again.

* * *

_**Author's Note: The Tobias Hankel thing happened in Season 2 "Revelations."**_


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

With the help of the BAU, the Daytona PD was closing in on the Speedway Killer. He was a white male in his early twenties with money –family money– because on his own he was a broke high school dropout who couldn't hold a job. He was a favorite in the clandestine racing scene, and he left a trail by betting heavily on Buzz Harvey in the Daytona 500.

The killings started when Harvey's winning streak ended. Each time he lost, a victim died. First an elderly woman, then a younger woman, and finally a man. With each murder, the Unsub was working up the courage to his main target. The final race was tomorrow, and if Buzz Harvey lost, he was as good as dead. The team had yet to put a name to the sketch. And the trail led to Cape Coral, the Unsub's hometown, according to the street racers.

"Morgan, you and Reid go down there," ordered the Unit Chief when the team regrouped. "Get a list of high school drop-outs over the past ten years. Then cross check the names with high-stakes Daytona 500 gamblers at the local bar scene."

"You got it, Hotch," replied Morgan, and added, "You know, that's like a 3-hour drive."

"More like 4 hours, 15 minutes," corrected Spencer.

"Exactly," said Morgan. "I think we could make it in half the time with a faster car."

J.J. laughed, "Nice try, Morgan!"

"No, he's right," agreed Hotch. "Time is of the essence."

And that's how Morgan gleefully sped to Cape Coral in a red Porsche, while Reid held on for dear life.


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

They put the top up an hour ago, but Reid's skin still throbbed where the unforgiving Florida sun had burnt it.

"Damn, white boy!" laughed Morgan when he saw the swollen, red skin. "You're going to need burn cream or something."

"Don't worry about it," replied Spencer dryly. "Let's just get this guy."

Morgan gave Reid a once-over, noting his posture and demeanor: tired from a sleepless night, nervous over the fast driving, wired even. Morgan slowed down a bit and lowered the radio. Spencer relaxed immediately. "So are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

Spencer considered offering a vague response, anything to get Morgan off his back. But ended up saying, "I never told Alison about Tobias Hankle."

Morgan held his breath. Was Reid talking to him about Alison? Was he finally opening up to him? Spencer was silent, so Morgan encouraged him. "Why not?"

"She thought I was brave!" he laughed and told Morgan about his tattoo, without mentioning anything about its meaning between them.

"Well, she was right, Reid. You _are _brave."

"That's just it, Morgan. I'm a coward." He looked out his window in frustration. "She only wanted one thing from me. Not forgiveness, and in the end not even love, if I couldn't give it. She just needed me to understand why she did it. And I couldn't give that to her."

"I'm not sure I follow," said Morgan.

"When Hankle finally died… I can't even explain how relieved I felt. Even now when I wake up from a nightmare, it comforts me to know that he's dead."

"That's normal, Spencer. What you went through was incredibly traumatic. His death gave you closure."

"Alison needed me to understand how those women felt when they killed their rapist."

"It's not the same thing, Reid."

"But isn't it? I had a gun, so I used it. Wouldn't they have liked to use one, too, when they were being brutally raped? Alison gave them a second chance."

Morgan stayed quiet. Spencer would shut down if he judged him now, or if he said anything negative about Alison. He just listened and Spencer continued, "Alison wanted me to understand how relieved those women felt when they killed their rapists. And I _did_ understand, but I couldn't tell her because I didn't want her to know about Hankle. And now she's gone."

"You needed more time," sighed Morgan feeling Spencer's pain. "You two didn't get enough time together."

They drove the rest of the way in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. Spencer closed his eyes and relived his last minutes in Naples and his return to D.C.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Thank you for reading. Next chapter: Spencer's arrest and Hotch to the rescue.**_


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

_**Author's Note: I chose to present the next four chapters like Martin's "Song of Ice and Fire," (only that he did it a million times better!) The events unfold through the eyes of each character. I hope I don't lose my readers in the process. Please read and review!**_

* * *

Detective Martinez

"By himself? And you're sure?" She jumped out of bed and threw on the same work slacks she had taken off less than an hour ago. "Negative, do not go in! I want to be the one to arrest him! Get the task force down there!"

She put on her boots and holstered her weapon. A rush of adrenaline had her driving 90 miles per hour to her destination.

It was really happening! This arrest would break the case. And in good time, too. Just this afternoon the Captain had chewed her out, again. He reminded her –as if she could forget– that he didn't want to give her this case in the first place, that she knew the risks, that this case would make or break her. Well, she would not be broken. Not by a nerdy, back-stabbing fed, anyway.

What was she thinking? Her number one rule was to never trust anyone. Yet she had been fooled by his school boy looks, his sad eyes, and that small smile that made him look so insecure. She wanted to comb his hair like a doll and mother him. And above all she wanted to impress the FBI agent. But he had played her since day 1! She cursed and pushed the gas pedal harder.

But tonight she had the upper hand. Her greatest fear was that he had run away with Dr. Montgomery. But he was back! Now he was hers.

She arrived and met the task force in the parking lot. She put on her Kevlar and gave the green light.

"Dr. Spencer Reid, D.C. Police. We're coming in!"

They broke down the door and rushed into the apartment with their weapons drawn.

"Hands in the air!" screamed an officer.

Spencer was seated in his kitchen with his hands up. "Isn't this a bit much, Detective Martinez?"

She wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. "Spencer Reid, slowly get up and come out from behind the counter… You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent…"

She roughed him up a bit when she cuffed him, just to show him who was boss now. Sure enough, his groan showed he felt pain. "Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"

"I want my lawyer right away," said Reid.

"Yeah, I'll bet you do," she grunted. "Take him downtown and book him."

They took him away and she gave further instructions to execute the search. And as Detective Martinez climbed down the stairs she felt like she was on top of the world.


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Hotch

The thought of Dr. Spencer Reid on the wrong side of the interrogation table was sickening. But even worse was not knowing in what state of mind he would find Reid. The police station was quiet, as it was the middle of the night. So Hotch made sure to disrupt that peace and quiet. Threats and questions, loud and angry. It was good to keep them on edge, show them some muscle from the very beginning. He mentioned that he had better find Reid in one piece. That caused a flicker of worry in Detective Martinez' eyes. He was shown to the holding room, to Spencer.

"Hotch." He gave him one of his nervous half-smiles. "I told you I would call."

Hotch was immediately relieved. The kid was okay. Now they just had to work through this mess.

"Spencer, I'm sure I meant _before_ getting arrested."

"Yeah, I guess so," he replied softly.

Hotch approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. When Reid winced, he asked, "What's wrong? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?"

Spencer smiled and answered, "The Detective is really mad at me. And I can't say that I blame her." He saw the rage in Hotch's eyes and quickly added, "No, Hotch, really. It's okay. She just roughed me up a bit while cuffing me, and she's surprisingly strong for a girl."

Hotch took a seat next to Reid, not across the table. He opened the file and said, "Spencer, they've got you on obstruction of justice. Did you verify a false alibi?"

"No, but I didn't deny it either."

"I see. And did you aid and abet a criminal?"

"I guess I did."

"You _guess_ you did," Hotch repeated. "Okay. And did you help a fugitive to escape custody?"

"Yes."

"That's three counts, Reid. You're in trouble, son."

Spencer nodded.

Hotch closed the file and pushed it away. "Look, Spencer, you have to talk to me. I'm your lawyer and you have attorney-client-privilege."

"Yeah, but you're also my boss, so isn't that a conflict of interest?"

"A big one. But I won't be your boss if you go to prison, will I? So let's just focus on getting you out of here, which I'm sure I can do. But you have got to tell me the whole story."

So as the hours passed, Spencer told Hotch all about Alison. He was angry. He paced. He punched the table. He couldn't help giving Reid the what-were-you-thinking speech, complete with the are-you-f'n-crazy? And then he tore out of the room to raise hell with the detectives.


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

The Team

Hotch: Okay, thank you all for video conferencing. Let's regroup and see what we have so far. Morgan?

Morgan: Yeah, the brother doesn't know anything. He and his wife are pretty shaken up by the whole thing. They're a real decent couple. But I'm still down here in Florida. I started investigating the death of the parents and something's not right.

Hotch: What is it?

Morgan: Well, the day they died they had taken out the sailboat. It was nicely anchored in Marco Island, but the bodies were found on a beach several miles away. Drowned, with no diving gear. Just drowned. It's weird.

Hotch: How old was the girl when it happened?

Morgan: Eight.

Hotch: Okay, so whatever happened with the parents was Alison's trigger. Keep digging and keep me posted.

Morgan: Will do.

Hotch: Emily? J.J.? What about you?

J.J.: All four women confessed to the homicides. The murdered men were their rapists. All four called the hotline and were attended to personally by Alison.

Emily: But none of them are giving her up, Hotch. They're fiercely loyal to her. It's creepy.

Hotch: But understandable. She helped them through the worst day of their lives. What about the murder weapon?

J.J.: Not recovered. They all have a different story for how they got rid of it.

Hotch: Which means Alison took it with her. Penelope, what do have on her whereabouts?

Penelope: I traced her as far as Lima. The last time she used her credit card was at a pharmacy near the airport, where she bought … wait for it, wait for it … here we go, ibuprofen, acetazolamide, and oh, my, coca leaves. Is she a drug addict, too? Boy, Spencer sure does know how to pick 'em.

Morgan: No, Baby Girl, use that computer of yours and look up altitude sickness. I think that's what acetazolamide is for.

J.J.: Yeah, that's right. Ibuprofen is also used to alleviate the symptoms of mountain sickness, like headache and nausea. Have you ever been climbing, Morgan?

Morgan: Yeah, I used to climb in college during summer break.

J.J.: Me, too. My favorite spot was …

Penelope: Sorry to interrupt, but I've got it. A star for each of you. Both acetazolamide and ibuprofen are used in the treatment of altitude, or mountain, sickness, as is the coca leaf, which is used to make tea when you need to climb fast before allowing the body to slowly acclimatize.

Hotch: So she's going high and she's going fast. J.J., at what altitude do the symptoms begin?

J.J.: At about 9,000 feet, Sir.

Hotch: Okay, Penelope, what's out there 9,000 feet and above? Maybe she has a favorite spot, too.

Penelope: Oh, this is bad. Very bad.

Morgan: Spit it out, Goddess.

Penelope: Several million acres of Amazonian Rain Forest spanning through Brazil, Peru, Colombia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Bolivia, Guyana, Suriname, and French Guiana… Hotch, are you still there?

Hotch: Yes, Penelope, I'm still here.

Morgan: We lost her, Hotch. We'll never find her until she wants to get found. Hotch?

Hotch: Okay, everybody get back to Quantico… We're done here.


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

_**Content Warning: Love scene. Sensitive readers, please skip to paragraph 2.**_

* * *

Rossi

The woman had needs. Some very specific, very kinky needs. And, fortunately, he had learned to satisfy those needs many years ago when they were still young. So he was greatly surprised to discover, on a night of nostalgic reminiscing coupled with one drink too many, that she would go home with him if he kissed her just right. And that she would purr like a tigress if he touched her just right. And that she would beg if he did it just right. The first time he had his boss on her back writhing beneath him, he felt like pounding his chest and yelling out the Tarzan call.

Of course, from that day on, he only did it when he needed something from her. But it was different now. Now he stayed the night just to enjoy her company over a cup of coffee the following morning. And now he enjoyed taking long walks with her so he could hold her hand. And he liked dining with her in public. In fact, he couldn't wait until someone from the team saw them so he could share this with them. Was he falling in love? Well, it was definitely worth exploring, and he had even told her so.

"Erin, I think I'm falling in love with you. How do you feel about that?"

To which she said, "I think I'm falling in love with you, too, Dave."

So that night when they made love, it was special because it meant something to both of them. And Dave figured it was the best time to talk to Director Strauss about making Spencer Reid's file go away.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Okay, so, I hope you enjoyed that. Next chapter we're back to normal prose. Thank you for reading.**_


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

"Hotch, we've got a name," reported Spencer over the phone. "Preston Miller."

Events unfolded quickly after that. Preston Miller had hacked into the Speedway information system and given himself high-level clearance to Buzz Harley's pit. He was carrying a gun when Rossi arrested him: same make and model used to murder all three victims. It would be a slam dunk for the prosecution.

"They got him, Reid. We did it," said Morgan relieved. "Hotch said we don't have to hurry back. The team is wrapping up the case with the Daytona PD."

"He's probably worried that you'll kill us in that car," laughed Spencer.

"There's nothing to worry about," assured Morgan. "That's a high performance vehicle."

"Yeah, but I would feel a lot safer with a high performance driver."

"Touché, Pretty Boy. Come on, let's go."

"Um, I'm not leaving just yet, Morgan. But you go ahead. We'll meet at the hotel.''

"What do you mean you're not coming? Where are you going?" And then Morgan realized how close they were to Naples. "No! You're not going over there."

"I'm not?" asked Spencer defiantly.

"Reid, listen to me. You know that Detective is all over you. She probably knows exactly where you are right now, and she's betting you can't resist the chance to go to Gregor's place."

"So what! She can bet all she likes. It's not illegal to visit an old friend."

"Spencer, just stop, okay. Not even Hotch understands how you're not in jail right now. You need to lay low, man!"

"Look, Morgan. I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But I _have_ to go. With or without your blessing."

Morgan stared him down and realized the kid wasn't going to budge. "Okay, but I'm going with you."


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49

From the very moment they pulled into the gravel driveway, Spencer could feel her everywhere. He remembered his feelings of inadequacy and apprehension the first time he set foot in that house. But Gregor had accepted him with open arms. Now he felt infinitely worse. Would Gregor hate him? Would he think that Spencer betrayed his trust? After a moment's hesitation, he rang the doorbell.

Gregor himself answered the door. His features turned from a question into an exclamation. "Spencer!"

Spencer looked into the man's eyes, where he found warmth and some deep emotion he could not identify. He smiled, but before he could speak, Morgan stepped in, "Dr. Montgomery, we're here to follow up on the ongoing investigation."

Gregor's smile faded and he responded, "Of course. Won't you come in?"

"Thank you," said Morgan assertively stepping through. Spencer was more hesitant. They were led into the living room and Morgan asked, "Have you been contacted by your sister, Dr. Montgomery?"

"No, of course, not," he responded uncomfortably.

"And you still have no idea where she is?"

He shook his head.

"Reid, do you want to ask him anything?"

"No," replied Spencer. His voice sounded small and weak.

"Okay, so I guess we're done here. Dr. Montgomery, could I please use the restroom? We drove here non-stop from Cape Coral."

"Yes, it's over there. First door to the left."

"Thank you, Sir." Before he left, Morgan glanced at Reid, whose eyes seemed to say _thank you_.

As soon as Morgan was gone, he told Gregor, "I'm so sorry, I couldn't shake him. He insisted on coming with me."

"Spencer, it's good to see you, son. Ali said you would come back. She was right."

Spencer melted at the words. Even in the end, she had faith in him.

"There's something you need to see," he said softly. He rose to the mantle and reached behind the row of family photos. Spencer's eyes followed his every movement. Gregor returned and gave Reid a photo. "The note said to give you this."

Reid looked at the photo with curiosity, and when he finally understood, his heart raced out of his chest. He did not know the beautiful child with the golden locks and big blue eyes, but she looked exactly like Diana Reid.


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Spencer was speechless. The tears pooled in his eyes. "How old is she?" he asked in a heavy voice.

"About a year now."

"Gregor, where are they? I need to know."

From the hallway, Morgan was announcing his return, "Reid, I think we should get going." He walked into the living room and noted Spencer's emotional state. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," said Reid, looking away as he wiped a stray tear that had fallen.

Gregor took over the conversation now. "My book was released. Remember? The one I told you about?"

"Oh, yes. Congratulations," said Spencer downcast.

"Would you like a copy?"

"Yes, of course."

Gregor slipped away and returned before Morgan could even question Reid.

"Here it is. Let me sign it for you." He scribbled in it, closed the book, and gave it to Reid.

"Thanks," he replied. And when he opened it, he wanted to sing. Right under Gregor's signature was a location in latitude and longitude. He nervously rose to his feet and said, "Well, we should get going. Morgan?"

"I'll see you out," said Gregor.

They got in the car and Gregor said, "I hope we can meet again, Spencer. Why don't you drop by in November? The weather is lovely then."

"I will," said Reid. "Thanks."

Morgan drove off suspicious of Reid's mood swing. He had been disturbed when Morgan returned from the bathroom. But whatever Gregor wrote in the book gave him hope. That and his veiled reference to the month of November. And the way Reid thanked him, like from the depths of his soul. _Just let it go, Morgan. _And that's exactly what he would do, for now.

* * *

The seasons passed, and soon enough November came. The cold, biting winds had arrived and Spencer requested some vacation time to see his mother. He spent a few days with Diana and took his leave. Now he was at the airport.

"Aren't you in the wrong terminal?" asked Morgan. "Flights to D.C. are over there."

"Jesus, Morgan, you scared me!" cried Spencer dropping his suitcase. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been following you," he said flatly. "Where are you going, Spencer?"

The PA announced, "United Airlines now boarding flight 1025 to Houston, Texas."

"Flight 1025, huh?" said Morgan smugly as he took out his smart phone. "Let's see here. Connecting to Miami and then arriving at, well what do you know, Lima."

They stared each other down.

"I think you're making a big mistake, Spencer," he finally said.

"Well, S.S.A. Morgan, if you're not going to arrest me, then step aside."

He did step aside, and Spencer went on his way.

"Damn it, Reid!" he yelled back at him. "I wish you had never met her. That girl was your undoing."

Spencer looked back and smiled at his friend. _Indeed she was_ _the undoing of Dr. Spencer Reid. _And he turned around to board his plane with such hope: to reunite with Alison and to meet his daughter.

Fin.

* * *

_**Author's note: Thank you very much for reading! And I especially appreciate your kind reviews. I'd like to write a sequel this summer. So, until then ...**_


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